<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=349982" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Old Love</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I<br>You love me, only me. Do I not know? <br>If I were gone your life would be no more <br>Than his who, hungering on a rocky shore, <br>Shipwrecked, alone, observes the ebb and flow <br>Of hopeless ocean widening forth below, <br>And is remembering all that was before. <br>Dear, I believe it, at your strong heart's core <br>I am the life; no need to tell me so. <br>And yet--Ah, husband, though I be more fair, <br>More worth your love, and though you loved her not, <br>(Else must you have some different, deeper name <br>For loving me), dimly I seem aware, <br>As though you conned old stories long forgot, <br>Those days are with you--hers--before I came.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">II<br>The mountain traveller, joyous on his way, <br>Looks on the vale he left and calls it fair, <br>Then counts with pride how far he is from there, <br>And still ascends. And, when my fancies stray, <br>Pleased with light memories of a bygone day, <br>I would not have again the things that were. <br>I take their thought like fragrance in the air <br>Of flowers I gathered in my childish play. <br>And thou, my very soul, can it touch thee <br>If I remember her or I forget? <br>Does the sun ask if the white stars be set? <br>Yes, I recall, shall many times, maybe, <br>Recall the dear old boyish days again, <br>The dear old boyish passion. Love, what then?</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Augusta+Davies+Webster">Augusta Davies Webster</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=349982" data-title="The Old Love de Augusta Davies Webster" data-description="I You love me, only me. Do I not know? If I were gone your life would be no more Than his who, hungering on a rocky shore, Shipwrecked, alone, observes the ebb and flow Of hopeless ocean widening forth below, And is remembering all that was b..."></div> </div> </div>

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