There is wind where the rose was, <br />Cold rain where sweet grass was, <br />And clouds like sheep <br />Stream o'er the steep <br />Grey skies where the lark was. <br /> <br />Nought warm where your hand was, <br />Nought gold where your hair was, <br />But phantom, forlorn, <br />Beneath the thorn, <br />Your ghost where your face was. <br /> <br />Cold wind where your voice was, <br />Tears, tears where my heart was, <br />And ever with me, <br />Child, ever with me, <br />Silence where hope was.<br /><br />Walter de la Mare<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/november/
