In My Sage Moments
John Ireland, Thomas Hardy
In my sage moments I can say
Come not near
But far in foreign regions stay
So that here
A mind may grow again serene and clear
But the thought withers. Why should I
Have fear to earn me
Fame from your nearness, though thereby
Old fires new burn me
And lastly, maybe. tear and overturn me!
So I say, Come: deign again shine
Upon this place
Even if unslackened smart be mine
From that sweet face
And I faint to a phantom past all trace