Page:Erotica.djvu/41

 It cannot melt the winter snow

That time has piled upon my brow!

Oh! Time, how long ago it seems

Since first I dreamt those golden dreams

And in Love's school remained a dunce.

You've robbed my locks of pristine sheen,

But there's one memory always green,

Immutable, you cannot steal;

For still, 'twixt dusk and dawn I feel

The kiss with which she kissed me once.

Rh