by A. E. Housman
If truth in hearts that perish Could move the powers on high, I think the love I bear you Should make you not to die.
Sure, sure, if stedfast meaning, If single thought could save, The world might end to-morrow, You should not see the grave.
This long and sure-set liking, This boundless will to please, —Oh, you should live for ever If there were help in these.
But now, since all is idle, To this lost heart be kind, Ere to a town you journey Where friends are ill to find.