Everlasting Flowers

Who do you think stands watching         The snow-tops shining rosy     In heaven, now that the darkness         Takes all but the tallest posy?     Who then sees the two-winged         Boat down there, all alone     And asleep on the snow's last shadow,         Like a moth on a stone?     The olive-leaves, light as gad-flies,         Have all gone dark, gone black.     And now in the dark my soul to you         Turns back.     To you, my little darling,         To you, out of Italy.     For what is loveliness, my love,         Save you have it with me!     So, there's an oxen wagon         Comes darkly into sight:     A man with a lantern, swinging         A little light.     What does he see, my darling         Here by the darkened lake?     Here, in the sloping shadow         The mountains make?     He says not a word, but passes,         Staring at what he sees.     What ghost of us both do you think he saw         Under the olive trees?     All the things that are lovely -         The things you never knew -     I wanted to gather them one by one         And bring them to you.     But never now, my darling         Can I gather the mountain-tips     From the twilight like half-shut lilies         To hold to your lips.     And never the two-winged vessel         That sleeps below on the lake     Can I catch like a moth between my hands         For you to take.     But hush, I am not regretting:         It is far more perfect now.     I'll whisper the ghostly truth to the world         And tell them how     I know you here in the darkness,         How you sit in the throne of my eyes     At peace, and look out of the windows         In glad surprise.