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Poem by Ernest Christopher Dowson


Exile


By the sad waters of separation
Where we have wandered by divers ways,
I have but the shadow and imitation
Of the old memorial days.

In music I have no consolation,
No roses are pale enough for me;
The sound of the waters of separation
Surpasseth roses and melody.

By the sad waters of separation
Dimly I hear from an hidden place
The sigh of mine ancient adoration:
Hardly can I remember your face.

If you be dead, no proclamation
Sprang to me over the waste, gray sea:
Living, the waters of separation
Sever for ever your soul from me.

No man knoweth our desolation;
Memory pales of the old delight;
While the sad waters of separation
Bear us on to the ultimate night. 



Ernest Christopher Dowson


Ernest Christopher Dowson's other poems:
  1. Quid Non Supremus, Amantes?
  2. Epigram
  3. Villanelle of Marguerite's
  4. Amor Umbratilis
  5. Vain Resolves


Poems of the other poets with the same name:

  • Harold Crane Exile ("My hands have not touched pleasure since your hands")

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