Page:Poems and ballads (IA poemsballads00swinrich).pdf/238

 I love you and I do not love, Too much, a little, not at all: Too much, and never yet enough. Birds quick to fledge and fly at call Are quick to fall.

And these love longer now than men, And larger loves than ours are these. No diver brings up love again Dropped once, my beautiful Félise, In such cold seas.

Gone deeper than all plummets sound, Where in the dim green dayless day The life of such dead things lies bound As the sea feeds on, wreck and stray And castaway.

Can I forget? yea, that can I, And that can all men; so will you, Alive, or later, when you die. Ah, but the love you plead was true? Was mine not too?

I loved you for that name of yours Long ere we met, and long enough. Now that one thing of all endures— The sweetest name that ever love Waxed weary of.