Love! and my soul like ashes at thy feet!
Love! and blind tears and shattered hopes that fell!
A mad forgiveness — and a wild farewell! —
And broken steps along an old-world street,
The seas between us! — then the withering heat —
The hate that, like a demon roused from hell,
Smote into flame the splendor and the spell,
Till thou to me wert ashes, Marguerite! —

Yes, I remember. — But when storms are done,
The wet leaves sparkle on the mountain tree;
The gold clouds lie about the setting sun;
The blue waves roll their white crests in from sea;
The gentle stars mount heaven one by one
With ancient light, as now they mount to me.