ALL my days are clear again and gentle with forgetting,
Mornings cool with graciousness of time passed stilly by.
Evening sweet with call of birds and lilac-rose sun-setting,
And starshine does not hurt my heart nor night-winds make me cry.
I can tie a ribbon now, nor hope of your eyes' pleasure
Makes its hue intolerable if you come not to see,
I can hear old music now, nor stabbing through its measure
Come the thoughts I would not have, or tears that need not be.
All my days are placid now, as quiet children slowly
Pacing down a leaf-locked way that has not dale or hill;
Peace again and mirth again, and dawn and even holy. . . .
I wish I had your hands in mine, and heartbreak still!
