A Farewell

Remember me and smile, as smiling too,

 I have remembered things that went their way—

      The dolls with which I grew too wise to play—

Or over-wise—kissed, as children do,

And so dismissed them; yes, even as yoy

      Have done with this poor piece of painted clay—

      Not wantonly, but wisely, shall we say?

As one who, haply, tunes his heart anew.

Only I wish her eyes may not be blue,

     The eyes of a new angel. Ah! she may

Miss something that I found,—perhaps the clue

To those long silences of yours, which grew

     Into one word.  And should she not be gay,

     Poor lady! Well, she too must have her day.