Robert Louis Stevenson
In Dreams
In dreams unhappy, I behold you stand
As heretofore:
The unremember’d tokens in your hand
Avail no more
No more the morning glow, no more the grace
Enshrines, endears
Cold beats the light of time upon your face
And shows your tears
He came and went. Perchance you wept awhile
And then forgot
Ah me! but he that left you with a smile
Forgets you not