[½»Á÷] a beautiful poem£ºtears £¬idle tears ÒÑÓÐ5È˲ÎÓë

Tears .idle tears .I know not what they mean.
tears from the depth of some diving despair
rise in the heart .adn gather to the eyes
in looking on the happy Autumn-fields
and thinking of the days that are no more


Fresy as the first beam glittering on a sail
that brings our friends from the underworld
sad as the last which reddens over one
that sinks with all we love below the verge
so sad .so frech .the days that are no more


Ah. sad and strange as in dark summer dawns
the earliest pipe of the half-awaken'd birds
to dying ears .when unto dying eyes
the casement slowly grows a glimmering aquare
so sad ,so strange .the days that are no more


Dear as remember'd kisses after death
and sweet as those by hopeless fancy feign'd
on lips that are for others .deep as love
deep as first love ,and wild with all regret
o Death in life the days that are no more

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