Thou hast not parted from the sun


    …Ἔμεθεν δ’ ἔχεισθα λάθαν·
    …Ἤ τιν’ ἄλλον
    [μᾶλλον] ἀνθρώπων ἔμεθεν φίλησθα·

    THOU hast not parted from the sun, 
       Thou art not dead, 
    Numbered with fickle ghosts as one 
       By Hermes led. 

    Thou still hast breath and memory, 
       Can'st seek and yearn ; 
    Yet wholly thou forgettest me, 
       Or I discern 

    The truth—thou lov'st another more. 
       Assuageless pain ! 
    Betake thee to Oblivion's shore ! 
       Wilt thou profane 

    Love's wine by drinking twice the draught
       Of that red tide 
    We lifted to our lips and quaffed 
       When side by side ?

    To thee let Lethe’s drowsing wave
       Its solace give !
    I, one bright memory to save, 
       Will weep and live.