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I, too, have come to feel and see
How little in the world can be
Ours, as we pine and pass —
How all we long for, know of, love,
As in a dream from us remove,
Till each becomes the shadow of
A light that was.
We must all somehow be made
One with time, that fleeting shade;
Until we within the dust
Wither as sweet violets must
In their own scent, as they lie
Like a virgin memory
Trembling with its sweetest breath
In the mystery of death.

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Robert Crawford

Robert Crawford FRSE FBA is a Scottish poet, scholar and critic. He is currently Professor of English at the University of St Andrews. more…

All Robert Crawford poems | Robert Crawford Books

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"Poetry.net" Poetry.net. STANDS4 LLC, 2015. Web. 30 Jun 2015. <http://www.poetry.net/>.

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