Ah, Dans Ces Mornes Séjours Les Jamais Sont Les Toujours

by Ernest Dowson

You would have understood me, had you waited;
    I could have loved you, dear! as well as he:
  Had we not been impatient, dear! and fated
      Always to disagree.
  What is the use of speech? Silence were fitter:
    Lest we should still be wishing things unsaid.
  Though all the words we ever spake were bitter,
      Shall I reproach you dead?
  Nay, let this earth, your portion, likewise cover
    All the old anger, setting us apart:
  Always, in all, in truth was I your lover;
      Always, I held your heart.
  I have met other women who were tender,
    As you were cold, dear! with a grace as rare.
  Think you, I turned to them, or made surrender,
      I who had found you fair?
  Had we been patient, dear! ah, had you waited,
    I had fought death for you, better than he:
  But from the very first, dear! we were fated
      Always to disagree.
  Late, late, I come to you, now death discloses
    Love that in life was not to be our part:
  On your low lying mound between the roses,
      Sadly I cast my heart.
  I would not waken you: nay! this is fitter;
    Death and the darkness give you unto me;
  Here we who loved so, were so cold and bitter,
      Hardly can disagree.