So, Thou Art Gone (Poem by Gilbert Parker)

So, Thou Art Gone

By Gilbert Parker

So, thou art gone; and I am left to wear

Thy memory as a golden amulet

Upon my breast, to sing a chansonnette

Of winter tones, when summer time is here.

And yet, my heart arises from the dark,

Where it fell back in silence when you went

To seaward, and a sprite malevolent

Sat laughing in the white sails of thy barque.

‘Twas not moth-wings dashing against the flame,

Burning in love’s areanum; ‘twas a cry

Struck from soul-crossing chords, that, separate, frame

Life’s holy calm, or wasting agony.

But now between the warring strings there grows

A space of peace, as ‘tween truce-honoured foes.