Clark Ashton Smith

Ah, let me not remember
The leaves of brown November
'Neath boughs renewed with May;
Let me forget the flowers
Of blown Aprilian bowers,
When autumn shades and showers
Besiege the flowerless day.

Ah, never, nevermore,
Beauty that burned of yore
As a great lamp of gold,
Must I recall thy grace,
Nor dream thy phantom face
In any lonely place
The moonless mists enfold.

Bibliographic Citation

Top of Page