Remembrance

Let all the towns remember you,

And tell it out with mellow tongue,

Down April yards at fall of dew —

That you were fair, that you were young.

A wind at dusk shaken to and fro

Against a melon-colored pane;

White flags in a brief, wistful row;

An only star after a rain.

But let this secret keep unsung;

Nor wise nor fool must it divine,

And tell it out with April tongue —

That all this loveliness was mine!