Beyond Poem by Ernest Christopher Dowson


Rating: 3.1

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
The twilight of poor love: we can but part,
Dumbly and sadly, reaping as we sow,
Love's aftermath.

Ramesh T A 09 January 2018

Love is painful pleasure! After pleasure, there will be pain or after pain, there will be pleasure in life! Congratulations!

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Bernard F. Asuncion 09 January 2018

Such a brilliant write by Ernest Christopher Dowson??????

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Susan Williams 09 January 2018

The twilight of love- - - what a perfect phrase to describe the slow darkening of the once-upon-a-time joy felt whenever in each other's company.

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Edward Kofi Louis 09 January 2018

Love's aftermath! ! Thanks for sharing.

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Rajnish Manga 09 January 2018

The poem sends a wonderful message of life. It's a a philosophical treat. Thanks. Can not put back the dial; this is, I trow, Dumbly and sadly, reaping as we sow,

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Deepak Kumar Pattanayak 09 January 2018

As you sow so you reap and in love it is so applied......... pain, pleasures, joy and anguish which are the aftermath of love come like shadow after the substance...........outstanding piece..........thanks for sharing

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