On The Departure Platform

We kissed at the barrier; and passing through     She left me, and moment by moment got     Smaller and smaller, until to my view      She was but a spot;     A wee white spot of muslin fluff     That down the diminishing platform bore     Through hustling crowds of gentle and rough      To the carriage door.     Under the lamplight's fitful glowers,     Behind dark groups from far and near,     Whose interests were apart from ours,      She would disappear,     Then show again, till I ceased to see     That flexible form, that nebulous white;     And she who was more than my life to me      Had vanished quite . . .     We have penned new plans since that fair fond day,     And in season she will appear again -     Perhaps in the same soft white array -      But never as then!     - "And why, young man, must eternally fly     A joy you'll repeat, if you love her well?"      - O friend, nought happens twice thus; why,      I cannot tell!