James Elroy Flecker

The Sentimentalist

There lies a photograph of you
    Deep in a box of broken things.
This was the face I loved and knew
    Five years ago, when life had wings;

Five years ago, when through a town
    Of bright and soft and shadowy bowers
We walked and talked and trailed our gown
    Regardless of the cinctured hours.

The precepts that we held I kept;
    Proudly my ways with you I went:
We lived our dreams while others slept,
    And did not shrink from sentiment.

Now I go East and you stay West
    And when between us Europe lies
I shall forget what I loved best
    Away from lips and hands and eyes.

But we were Gods then: we were they
    Who laughed at fools, believed in friends,
And drank to all that golden day
    Before us, which this poem ends.