Of Love and Poems

It was a night of early spring

The winter-sleep was scarcely broken

Around us shadows and the trees

Listen for what was never spoken

Though half a score of years are gone

Spring comes now as sharply as then--

And if we had it all to do

It would be done the same again.

It was a spring that never came

But we have lived long enough to know

That what we have never had, remains,