UNANSWERED

How long ago it is since we went Maying!

Since she and I went Maying long ago!—

The years have left my forehead lined, I know,

Have thinned my hair around the temples graying.

Ah, time will change us: yea, I hear it saying —

“She too grows old: the face of rose and snow

Has lost its freshness: in the hair's brown glow

Some strands of silver sadly, too, are straying.

The form you knew, whose beauty so enspelled,

Has lost the litheness of its loveliness:

And all the gladness that her blue eyes held

Tears and the world have hardened with distress.” —

“True! true!” I answer, “O ye years that part!

These things are chaned — but is her heart, her heart?”