With you a part of me hath passed away By: George Santayana

With you a part of me hath passed away;

For in the peopled forest of my mind

A tree made leafless by this wintry wind

Shall never don again its green array.

Chapel and fireside, country road and bay,

Have something of their friendliness resigned;

Another, if I would, I could not find,

And I am grown much older in a day.

But yet I treasure in my memory

Your gift of charity, and young hearts ease,

And the dear honour of your amity;

For these once mine, my life is rich with these.

And I scarce know which part may greater be,

What I keep of you, or you rob from me.






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2 responses

  1. I have set these words to music – often the death knell of a poem – but the music has made the poem richer and deeper in my experience. When I was in my twenties, a contemporary committed suicide and I was many, many years in getting over it. This poetry helps, imparting a healing warmth, even as I think of my friend as I play.

    • Hi,

      Thanks for sharing this here on my blog. You are so right. Poetry has a wonderful magic of soothing a sore or wounded heart. Whether you read poems, our pour out your feelings in composing one, it always helps in lessening the load off the heart. I’m glad you could find comfort from poetry too.

      I would sure like to listen to your musical rendition of this poem. If possible, do share the link to it.

      Best wishes,

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