Second Song (Three Songs of Zahir-u-Din)

How much I loved that way you had     Of smiling most, when very sad,     A smile which carried tender hints         Of delicate tints         And warbling birds,         Of sun and spring,     And yet, more than all other thing,     Of Weariness beyond all Words!     None other ever smiled that way,         None that I know, -     The essence of all Gaiety lay,     Of all mad mirth that men may know,     In that sad smile, serene and slow,     That on your lips was wont to play.     It needed many delicate lines     And subtle curves and roseate tints     To make that weary radiant smile;     It flickered, as beneath the vines     The sunshine through green shadow glints     On the pale path that lies below,     Flickered and flashed, and died away,     But the strange thoughts it woke meanwhile         Were wont to stay.     Thoughts of Strange Things you used to know     In dim, dead lives, lived long ago,     Some madly mirthful Merriment     Whose lingering light is yet unspent, -     Some unimaginable Woe, -     Your strange, sad smile forgets these not,     Though you, yourself, long since, forgot!