Classic Poem

You will forgive me in the coming years,
When we no longer wander hand in hand,
And I have passed into a silent land
Beyond recalling, — yea, beyond your tears;
You will remember me as a wind that veers,
And brought the April sunshine and the storm,
And while you sit alone watching the warm
Spring break, you will forget these pains and fears,
And think of me as one who loved too well,
Who drank too deep of life, and thirsted much
For beauty, and who suffered for the touch
Of loveliness remote, intangible;
And you shall say, as every Spring shall dawn:
— I have forgiven her now that she is goneâ?¦ —