In the ancient, frozen, solitary park
Two figures passed anon—now mark!;
Their eyes are dead, their lips are soft and gray;
One scarce can hear the words they say!
In the ancient, frozen, solitary park;
Two ghosts evoke the past—oh, hark!
“Does thy heart beat still at my name, and glow?
Seest thou my soul in dreams, dear?”—“No.”
“Ah! the fair days of joyance and of gree
When our mouths kissed, ah, kissed!”—“Maybe!”
“How blue the sky was, as our hope was clear!”
“Hope has gone down to Hell’s nadir.”
So, in the foolish aleys they conferred,
And only midnight overheard.