Love deep as the sea as a rose must wither,
       As the rose-red seaweed that mocks the rose.
Shall the dead take thought for the dead to love them?
       What love was ever as deep as a grave?
They are loveless now as the grass above them
               Or the wave.

All are at one now, roses and lovers,
       Not known of the cliffs and the fields and the sea.
Not a breath of the time that has been hovers
       In the air now soft with a summer to be.