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1867–1900

TO A LOST LOVE

Ernest Christopher Dowson

I seek no more to bridge the gulf that lies Betwixt our separate ways; For vainly my heart prays, Hope droops her head and dies;

I see the sad, tired answer in your eyes. I did not heed, and yet the stars were clear; Dreaming that love could mate Lives grown so separate;—

But at the best, my dear, I see we should not have been very near. I knew the end before the end was nigh: The stars have grown so plain;

Vainly I sigh, in vain For things that come to some, But unto you and me will never come.

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TO A LOST LOVE · Ernest Christopher Dowson · Poetry Cove