He who has entered by this sorrow's door Is neither dead nor living any more. Nothing can touch me now, except the cold Of whitening years that slowly make youth old; Hunger, that makes the body faint; one thought That ends all memory; for the future, nought. My future ended yesterday; I have Only a past, on this side of the grave. For I have lost you, and you fill the whole Of life now lost; and I have lost my soul, Because I have no part or lot in things That were to be immortal: grave-mould clings About my very thoughts; and love's dead too. All that I know of love I learnt of you. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MADAGASCAR: AUBADE by WILLIAM DAVENANT THE RUBAIYAT, 1879 EDITION: 68 by OMAR KHAYYAM HUGH SELWYN MAUBERLEY: 13. ENVOI, 1919 by EZRA POUND CASEY AT THE BAT (2) by ERNEST LAWRENCE THAYER A DEDICATION TO ATHENE by AULUS LICINIUS ARCHIAS ECHOES OF SPRING: 5 by MATHILDE BLIND |