She, to Him II
Perhaps, long hence, when I have passed away,Some other’s feature, accent, thought like mine,Will carry you back to what I used to say,And bring some memory of your love’s decline.
Then you may pause awhile and think, “Poor jade!”And yield a sigh to me—as ample due,Not as the tittle of a debt unpaidTo one who could resign her all to you—
And thus reflecting, you will never seeThat your thin thought, in two small words conveyed,Was no such fleeting phantom-thought to me,But the Whole Life wherein my part was played;And you amid its fitful masqueradeA Thought—as I in yours but seem to be.
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