By Luis G. Dato

When other loves, and other lips,
And other vows and other faces,
Erase from yesterday its traces,
And the dead past from memory slips;

When bluer skies, and greener ways,
Call out the heart away to wander,
With other loves, more true, more tender,
Leaving behind dead yesterdays;

Think not, my soul, in vain regretting,
And idle sighs should pass the days,
With songs forsworn in untrod ways,
To rue me of love’s false forgetting;,

But stout of heart with imprecation,
I hurl the melancholy hours,
That, sweet erstwhile, the heavenly powers,
Turn bane in my love’s execration;

Thus only though with grief, with sorrow,
May we from icy tombs find traces,
Of other lips and other faces,
And other loves beyond the morrow.

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