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.