This poem from Clark Ashton Smith (CAS) was unpublished in his lifetime, and is not available on The Eldritch Dark, so here's the complete text:
The brief and piteous loves of yore--
Canst not forget them, or forgive?
All that I have to give, I give;
Ask not if it be less or more
For glad or mournful loves of yore.
The blood in all my veins is thine;
My pouring pulses flow to thee
As vernal torrents tow'rds the sea.
Love is the winepress and the wine:
The blood in all my veins is thine.
Content thee; for I find or lose
No breast but thine in any dream;
I hear thy name at night's extreme--
'Tis mine own whisper; dawn renews
No other love to find or lose.
I make this love my calendar;
Thine arms, thy lips, are termini
To mete the bourn of memory:
All else is doubtful, dim, and far.
I make this love my calendar.
If others loved me ill or well,
It was as in a legend old;
Their love is now a story told,
And ours alone remains to tell:
Therefore, be wise! and love me well.
As with other love poems that CAS was writing around the same period (late 1920's through early 1930's) this one is rather uninspired, and reads like something of a draft, so it's no surprise that CAS chose not to publish it in this form.
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