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1865–1945

SOUVENIR.

Arthur Symons

HOW you haunt me with your eyes! Still that questioning persistence, Sad and sweet, across the distance Of the days of love and laughter,

Those old days of love and lies. Not reproaching, not reproving, Only, always, questioning, Those divinest eyes can bring

Memories of certain summers, Nights of dreaming, days of loving, When I loved you, when your kiss, Shyer than a bird to capture,

Lit a sudden heaven of rapture; When we neither dreamt that either Could grow old in heart like this. Do you still, in love's December,

Still remember, still regret That sweet unavailing debt? Ah, you haunt me, to remind me You remember, I forget!

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SOUVENIR. · Arthur Symons · Poetry Cove