Can it be you that I hear?
Let me view you, then,
Standing as when I drew near to the town
Where you would wait for me: yes, as I knew you then,
Even to the original air-blue gown!
Write my name in the snow, so that when spring comes I am no longer to be found. Or erase it now, for nothing remains but a memory, of summer and a starless sky. Don't look back or turn my way, adding cruelty on to cruelty.
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