SHE, TO HIM — II

Perhaps, long hence, when I have passed away,

Some other's feature, accent, thought like mine,

Will carry you back to what I used to say,

And bring some memory of your love's decline.

Then you may pause awhile and think, “Poor jade!”

And yield a sigh to me — as ample due,

Not as the tittle of a debt unpaid

To one who could resign her all to you -

And thus reflecting, you will never see

That your thin thought, in two small words conveyed,

Was no such fleeting phantom-thought to me,

But the Whole Life wherein my part was played;

And you amid its fitful masquerade

A Thought — as I in yours but seem to be.