Classic Poem

When the stir and the movement are over,
When you that had the lightness of a wind
Or the poise of some swift bird
Burn no longer in any man's mind,
And your voice in no man's heart is heard,
Who in the world will dare to be a lover?

Would any being hurt in the night be crying
" O God! her little mouth that with a kiss
Drank all a man; and — God! her weaving fingers! "
Would any of another dare say this?
Will there be other women, other singers?
I wish with you and me love might be dying.