A Farewell

Remember me and smile, as smiling too,  I have remembered things that went their way—       The dolls with which I grew too wise to play— Or over-wise—kissed, as children do,

And so dismissed them; yes, even as yoy       Have done with this poor piece of painted clay—       Not wantonly, but wisely, shall we say?

As one who, haply, tunes his heart anew.  Only I wish her eyes may not be blue,      The eyes of a new angel.

Ah! she may Miss something that I found,—perhaps the clue To those long silences of yours, which grew      Into one word.  And should she not be gay,      Poor lady!

Well, she too must have her day.