Wedded Memories

And if my memory live when I am dead:
When all whereby men knew me turns to dust;
When deaf and dumb, and sightless, I am thrust
Into dank darkness, where the worms are fed
By Death's gaunt hand, that breed in my cold bed;
When I, at last, with life and love break trust;
When the soul's yearnings and the body's lust,
Are ended wholly, as a tune out-played, —

If then, men name my name, and from these lays
The depth and glory of thy soul divine.
Shall not, beloved, my memory live in thine? —
Our memories moveless 'mid the moving days.
Intense and sad, like changeless stars that shine
On ruined towers of a predestined race.