Les Amours Faciles




A woe that lasts for a little space,
A light love passing and soon forgot,
A little sigh for a vanished grace,
For a Love that lives on a lovely face—
And the rest—we keep it not.

A fire that burns for a little space,
A light smoke rising to mark the spot,
A ring of black in the fire's place
That the soft scraped mould may soon efface—
And the rest—we keep it not

Oh! Why have the gods for a little space
Bound our lives by a weary lot,
For each light love leaves some light trace
And the heart is seared ere manhood's days,
Ere the love that lingers and lights and stays
Arrive—and we keep it not.