Poems (Mary Coleridge)/Poem 115
CXV
Forgive? O yes! How lightly, lightly said!
Forget? No, never, while the ages roll,
Till God slay o'er again the undying dead,
And quite unmake my soul!
Forget? No, never, while the ages roll,
Till God slay o'er again the undying dead,
And quite unmake my soul!