Beyond

by Ernest Christopher Dowson — a poem card from Justes Mots

Two lovers mourn love's decline, reaping sorrow as the inevitable harvest of their romance, their lips grown cold and eyes averted. The villanelle form reinforces the cycle of loss and resignation. It serves those processing love's ending or mourning affection's fade.

Love's aftermath! I think the time is now
That we must gather in, alone, apart
The saddest crop of all the crops that grow,
Love's aftermath.
Ah, sweet,--sweet yesterday, the tears that start
Can not put back the dial; this is, I trow,
Our harvesting! Thy kisses chill my heart,
Our lips are cold; averted eyes avow…

Themes: sympathy · grief · love · reflection