Agnes Mary Francis Robinson published this poem in An Italian Garden: a Book of Songs in 1886. The poem describes a lost love, between two women, and how the author hopes that her love will remember her after she dies.
O night of death, O night that bringest all,
Night full of dreams and large with promises,
O night that holdest on thy shadowy knees
Sleep for all fevers, hope for every thrall;
Bring thou to her for whom I wake and call,
Bring her when I am dead, for memories,
Our vanished love and all our vanished ease;
And I shall live again beneath the pall!
Then let my face, pale as a waning moon,
Rise on thy dark and be again as dear;
Let my dead voice find its forgotten tune
And strike again as sweetly in her ear,
As when, upon my lips, on far-off June,
Thy name- O Death- she could not brook to hear!
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