The Last Oblivion

Clark Ashton Smith

Not while the woods are redolent with spring,
Or scentless immortelles of autumn blow,
Shall I evade your loveliness, or know
Surcease of love and love's remembering.

But haply wandering, worlds and cycles hence,
Through unforeseen fantastic avatars,
I shall forget you in the future stars,
And take of time an alien recompense.

Till in some strange and latter planet, wrought
From molten shards and meteor-dust of this,
My hand shall pluck an unsuspected bloom

That lifts again the scarlet of your kiss;
And I shall muse and loiter, knowing not
The love that perished like a lost perfume.

Printed from: www.eldritchdark.com/writings/poetry/286
Printed on: November 19, 2017