Music I Heard by Conrad Aiken

Music I heard with you was more than music,
And bread I broke with you was more than bread;
Now that I am without you, all is desolate;
All that was once so beautiful is dead.

Your hands once touched this table and this silver,
And I have seen your fingers hold this glass.
These things do not remember you, beloved,
And yet your touch upon them will not pass.

For it was in my heart that you moved among them,
And blessed them with your hands and with your eyes;
And in my heart they will remember always,
—They knew you once, O beautiful and wise.

by Conrad Aiken

Other poems by 'Conrad Aiken'

Morning Song Of Senlin

A Letter From Li Po

All Lovely Things

Beloved, Let Us Once More Praise The Rain

Chiarascuro: Rose

Discordants

Evening Song Of Senlin

Hatteras Calling

Improvisations: Light And Snow

Nocturne Of Remembered Spring

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