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Edith Nesbit - The Heart Of Grief
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YOU will not come again 
        Along the deep-banked lane 
To where the field and fold so long have missed you; 
        You know no more the way 
        To where, so many a day 
        Before the world grew gray, 
            Your lover kissed you. 


        The wonders and delights 
        Of London days and nights 
Hold fast a soul not made for pastoral pleasures; 
        The scent of mignonette 
        Brings to you no regret, 
        No withered flowers lie yet 
            Among your treasures. 


        And I, who long for you 
        Sad and glad seasons through, 
Find my grief`s heart in knowing grief will find you; 
        Some day you too will sigh, 
        And lay a dead flower by, 
        And weep to see joy lie 
            At last behind you. 


        What though the flower you hide 
        With London wire be tied? 
What though the heart that broke your heart be rotten? 
        You too at last must miss 
        The smile, the word, the kiss, 
        And know how hard it is 
            To be forgotten.
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