If I could take this love from out my heart
And go my way in silence and alone,
Unweeping, and to fear and joy unknown,
Forgetful of the world's bright-colored mart,
Passing amidst the human throng, apart,
Like one who walks with beauty in the night,
Remembering all the tears and vain delight,
The rapture and the pain that were my part—
Then I could watch again the swallows dart
Into the sky's blue dome unenvyingly,
Knowing I am at last as they are, free . . . .
And I would say: “Though all sweet dreams depart,
I shall be ever glad remembering,
As one in winter hears the voice of Spring.”