XVIII

Out of sight,

Out of mind!

Could the light

Prove unkind?

Can the sun

Quite forget

What was done

Ere he set?

Does the moon

When she wanes

Leave no tune

That remains

In the void

Shell of night

Overcloyed

With her light?

Must the shore

At low tide

Feel no more

Hope or pride,

No intense

Joy to be,

In the sense

Of the sea —

In the pulses

Of her shocks

It repulses,

When its rocks

Thrill and ring

As with glee?

Has my king

Cast off me,

Whom no bird

Flying south

Brings one word

From his mouth?

Not the ghost

Of a word.

Riding post

Have I heard,

Since the day

When my king

Took away

With him spring,

And the cup

Of each flower

Shrivelled up

That same hour,

With no light

Left behind.

Out of sight,

Out of mind!