REGRET

I would that I were again a child
And a child you sweet and pure,
That we might be free and wild
In our consciousness obscure;
That we might play fantastic games
Under trees silent and shady,
That we might have fairy-book names,
I be a lord, you a lady.

And all were a strong ignorance
And a healthy want of thought,
And many a prank, many a dance
Our unresting feet had wrought;
And I would act well a clown's part
To your childish laughter winning,
And I would call you my sweetheart
And the name would have no meaning.

Or sitting close we each other would move
With tales that now gone are sad;
We would have no sex, would feel no love,
Good without fighting the bad.
And a flower would be our life's delight
And a nutshell boat our treasure:
We would lock it in a cupboard at night
As in memory a pleasure.

We would spend hours and days like a wealth
Of goodness too great to cloy,
We would deep enjoy innocence and health
Knowing not we did enjoy...
Ah, what bitterest is is that alone
Now one feeling in me I trace –
That knowledge of what from us hath gone
And of what it left in its place.


Alexander Search

May 29th. 1907