Sad is the thought of sunniest days <br />Of love and rapture perished, <br />And shine through memory's tearful haze <br />The eyes once fondliest cherished. <br />Reproachful is the ghost of toys <br />That charmed while life was wasted. <br />But saddest is the thought of joys <br />That never yet were tasted. <br /> <br />Sad is the vague and tender dream <br />Of dead love's lingering kisses, <br />To crushed hearts haloed by the gleam <br />Of unreturning blisses; <br />Deep mourns the soul in anguished pride <br />For the pitiless death that won them, <br />But the saddest wail is for lips that died <br />With the virgin dew upon them.<br /><br />John Hay<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/remorse-7/
