JADIS

Erewhile, before the world was old,

When violets grew and celandine,

In Cupid's train we were enrolled:

Erewhile!

Your little hands were clasped in mine,

Your head all ruddy and sun-gold

Lay on my breast which was your shrine,

And all the tale of love was told:

Ah, God, that sweet things should decline,

And fires fade out which were not cold,

Erewhile.