The eternal lines live still, but the boy,
where does he dwell, the young man with a face
more fair than any girl, and with more grace
than a princess royal, endowed for her joy?
His eyes like the blue rounded heavens shone
for some one unbounded love, but not you;
and you loved him all the same, though you knew
that his charm would fade, and one day be gone.
And what is he now, this man: an idea
in the mind. But a shade can never die,
and beautiful remains, as long as I’m here
to feel it. One day with him I too will lie.
But the idea will live though we all die,
and the firmament itself disappear.
9 April 2016