Look back with longing eyes and know that I will follow,
Lift me up in your love as a light wind lifts a swallow,
Let our flight be far in sun or blowing rain—
But what if I heard my first love calling me again?

Hold me on your heart as the brave sea holds the foam,
Take me far away to the hills that hide your home;
Peace shall thatch the roof and love shall latch the door—
But what if I heard my first love calling me once more?

Let it be forgotten, as a flower is forgotten,

   Forgotten as a fire that once was singing gold,

Let it be forgotten for ever and ever,

   Time is a kind friend, he will make us old.

  

If anyone asks, say it was forgotten

   Long and long ago,

As a flower, as a fire, as a hushed footfall

   In a long forgotten snow.

I shall gather myself into myself again,
   I shall take my scattered selves and make them one,
Fusing them into a polished crystal ball
   Where I can see the moon and the flashing sun.

I shall sit like a sibyl, hour after hour intent,
   Watching the future come and the present go,
And the little shifting pictures of people rushing
   In restless self-importance to and fro.