by Anna Blanch on February 14, 2012

This is my offering for Valentine Day. A Nesbit poem from her 1888 collection, “Eastertide.”


E. Nesbit

With Springs first breath of scented air

Come vague sweet thrills of memory —

Remembrance of the days that were,

And that again shall never be.


Dear ghosts of days for ever dead,

When we were young, and young the year —

Of all the foolish things we said

When you and I were lovers, dear.


Pale ghosts of days that could not last,—

Youth is so fleet, and time so strong —

Yet, oh, be glad that from our past

One treasure has been held so long.


The years have come, the years have fled,

With gain and loss our hearts to fill.

And youth’s sweet rose its leaves has shed,

Yet you and I are lovers still!


Lovers, although my hair is gray

And all your gold is turned to snow,

Lovers, thank God, as dear to-day,

As in the Spring-time, long ago !



Anna Blanch is founder of Goannatree, and a PhD candidate in the Institute of Theology, Imagination, and the Arts at St Mary’s College, University of St Andrews, Scotland where she’s presently writing her PhD on E.Nesbit. She is also a regular contributor to Transpositions.

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