XLVI

by Luis G. Dato

How long ago your absence, dear, has been,
From present days like ancient times away!
You seem returned from some primeval day,
From cave-walls of prehistory, I ween,
From those to these a million years between!
As though athwart, two glacial ages lay,
‘Twixt modern August and a Pliocene May,
In the aeonic meanwhile you unseen!

And yet now as it was that long ago,
My love with unquenched ardor yet still burns
As e’er, you in my wildest dreams to know,
The ancient joy enmeshed with pain returns,
Because, o dear, I love you, so much so,
With timelessness my spirit for you yearns!

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