When One Forgets

When one forgets, the old things are as dead things;
The grey leaves fall, and eyes that saw their May
Turn from them now, and voices that have said things
Wherein Life joyed, alas! are still to-day--
When one forgets.

The world was noble, now its sordid casement
Glows but with garish folly, and the plains
Of rich achievement lie in mean abasement--
Ah, Hope is only midwife to our pains!

When one forgets, but maimed rites come after:
To mourn, be priest, be sexton, bear the pall,
Remembrance-robed, the while a distant laughter
Proclaims Love’s ghost--what wonder skies should fall,
When one forgets!