I dreamed that I forgot you—wandering wide—
Aware you missed me—comfortless;
Then woke, so sharp my grief, to bless
The truth that you had died
How many lilac Aprils since!
And I of such unwaking perfidy
Was powerless—to realize with bliss
That dreams be fashioned out of falsity,
And death for us held never sting like this—
That I for one short Summer night forgot!
It could not be.