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| IF in the years that come such thing should be | |
| That we should part, with tears or deadly strife, | |
| That we should cease to share a common life, | |
| Or walk estranged in voiceless misery, | |
| Then by this night of love remember me. | 5 |
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| For tired hearts at last an end shall be, | |
| For tired feet the pitfall grave doth wait: | |
| Can we escape this common trick of fate? | |
| More fortunate than all beside are we? | |
| Wherefore by this night’s love remember me. | 10 |
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| Not by my worst, when dull or bitterly | |
| The mind moved, and the evil in my blood | |
| Worked words of anger thy meek will withstood, | |
| Not by the hours I sinned ’gainst love and thee, | |
| Oh, not by these, dear love, remember me. | 15 |
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| First in our mind live things that perfect be, | |
| All shapes of joy or beauty,—day’s low light | |
| Dying along the seaward edge of night, | |
| The first sweet violet, music’s ecstasy, | |
| Making the heart leap,—so remember me. | 20 |
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| For I would have thy mind and memory | |
| A chamber of sweet sounds and fragrances. | |
| Let the ill pass: its power to hurt was less | |
| Than joy’s to bless us. I remember thee | |
| By thy first kiss; Oh, thus remember me! | 25 |
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| There was an hour wherein a god’s degree | |
| And stature seemed to clothe me, and I stood | |
| Supremely strong, and high, and great, and good: | |
| Oh, by that hour, when all I aimed to be | |
| I did appear, by that remember me! | 30 |
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