Remembrance

Let all the towns remember you,
And tell it out with mellow tongue,
Down April yards at fall of dew—
That you were fair, that you were young.

A wind at dusk shaken to and fro
Against a melon-colored pane;
White flags in a brief, wistful row;
An only star after a rain.

But let this secret keep unsung;
Nor wise nor fool must it divine,
And tell it out with April tongue—
That all this loveliness was mine!