Lycidas*, my father,
I cannot say you drowned;
But this long year you've crowned your head
Not with laurels
But Charon's** river-weeds.
And I, abandoned,
Kneeled on farthest bank
To watch the summer's rosy hue
Wither and wilt --
Fade to frost of cruelty unmatched.
Lycidas, my father,
I will not ask which wave
Hides you in its embrace;
For it is not your face
I still seek in liquid blue,
But that glance of eye,
That subtle twitch of lips --
That which I need to trace
She who was -- and is now --
Now Lycidas is gone.
* Lycidas is a poem by John Milton, which I happened to be reading this time last year. It is an elegy, or mourning poem, in which Milton bewails the loss of his friend at sea.
** Charon, in Greek mythology, is the ferryman of the dead. The souls of the deceased are brought to him by Hermes, and Charon ferries them across the river Acheron.
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