The Far Feet

By George Sterling

Afton Annesley, gone forever,
    Cold to-night are the sars above,
That see all beauty, but never, never,
    One thing sweet as our woodland love.

Over our heads the pines were sighing;
    Under us two their needles lay.
Then was an end to all denying:
    All we feared was the break of day.

Afton Annesley, ocean calling
    Echoes all of an old regret.
Sea-mist rising and twilight falling
    Waken things that I half forget.

Pain tho it were, let me remember
    All that met in the farewell kiss.
Tears and rain of a far November,
    Equal now in the silences!

Afton Annesley, starlight only
    Lit your way to the trysting-tree.
Here I find on the wood-path lonely
    Futile dreams of a tryst-to-be.

Still would I seek you, past regaining,
    Grief and joy of a tragic year.
Lost Elysium! Autumn, waning,
    Murmurs all—if the heart could hear.

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