TO ONE UNFORGOTTEN <br />You are not false perhaps, as lovers say <br />Meaning the act,--Alas, that guilt was mine. <br />Nor, maybe, have you bowed at other shrine <br />Than the true god's where first you learned to pray. <br />I know the idols round you. They are clay, <br />Mere Dagons to the courage half divine <br />Which bears you scathless still thro' sap and mine <br />And breach and storm upon your virgin way. <br />Alas, I know your virtue. But your heart, <br />How have you treated it? I sometimes see, <br />When nights are long, a vision chaste and true <br />Of pale pathetic eyes which gaze on me <br />In love and grief eternal. Then I start, <br />Crying aloud, and reach my arms to you.<br /><br />Wilfrid Scawen Blunt<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-love-sonnets-of-proteus-part-iii-gods-and-false-gods-lxxx/
