If there in truth no beauty rest,
No withered heart to love attest,
If I returned to sun-loved lands,
With jaded eyes and time-worn hands,
There I should dwell and ever see
The beauty truth imparts to thee.
If there in life no love exist,
No song or legend to persist,
If passion be as rare as pearls,
Or comfort from the vile world,
If all these passed from memory,
Then I should still imagine thee.
If there in time no virtue bloom,
Where truth and honor lie entombed,
If thoughts of me should cause thee pain,
I would that you forget my name,
And if these all should come to pass,
Then I should say I loved, at last. |
