Old memories waken old desires
Infallibly. While we're alive
With eye or ear or sense at all,
Sometimes, must love revive.
But we'll not think, when some stray gust
Relumes the flicker of desire,
That fuel of circumstance could make
A furnace of our fire.
The past is gone. We must believe
It has no power to change our lives.
Yet still our constant hearts rejoice
Because the past survives.