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Arthur Symons - The Last Pity
Work rating: Low

Now I have seen your face, 
My tears are all for you. 
Where are the lonely grace, 
The pride, the lovely ways I knew? 

The flower that blossomed fair 
When winds and clouds arrayed 
The shadows of the air, 
Plucked, though with jealous care, must fade.
 
And in your wintry eyes. 
With re-awakenings moved 
A moment, I surprise 
Nostalgia of the skies they loved. 

Old sorrows I have borne 
In patience for your sake, 
Not without help of scorn: 
From dreams, now twice forlorn, I wake. 

I hear the old sorrows call, 
Now, from your heart alone"; 
And scorn`s relief recall 
With pity which is all your own.
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