A Valediction

Clark Ashton Smith

Though the blown leaves arise and go,
The pines remain;
Though love and all his raptures pass,
Abideth pain.

Slowly I kiss thy muted mouth,
And turn in sorrow:
Perchance the closing earth will press
Thereon tomorrow.

Printed from: www.eldritchdark.com/writings/poetry/626
Printed on: November 25, 2017