Alphonse de Lamartine

(1790 - / Mâcon, Burgundy)

Memory and Hope

I rebehold you, O belovéd Dead
About these doors and windows gatheréd;
With hands held out your own I seem to seize,
As water to the eye shows mirrored faces
That lean to meet our own in fond embraces
Till on love-kindled lips our kisses freeze.

O! Thou who madest memory, must it be
For nought at all?... Nay, we must render Thee,

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