The poem
WHEN our glowing dreams were dead, Ruined our heroic piles, Something in your dark eyes said: “Think no more of love or smiles.”
Something in me still would say, “Though our dreamland palace goes, I have seen how in decay Still the wild rose clings and blows.”
But your dark eyes willed it thus: “Build our lofty dream again: Let our palace rise o’er us: Love can never be till then.”