Everlasting FlowersFor a Dead MotherWho do you think stands watching The snow-tops shining rosyIn heaven, now that the darkness Takes all but the tallest posy?Who then sees the two-winged Boat down there, all aloneAnd asleep on the snow’s last shadow, Like a moth on a stone?The olive-leaves, light as gad-flies, Have all gone dark, gone black.And now in the dark my soul to you Turns back.To you, my little darling, To you, out of Italy.For what is loveliness, my love, Save you have it with me!So, there’s an oxen wagon Comes darkly into sight:A man with a lantern, swinging A little light.What does he see, my darling Here by the darkened lake?Here, in the sloping shadow The mountains make?He says not a word, but passes, Staring at what he sees.What ghost of us both do you think he saw Under the olive trees?All the things that are lovely — The things you never knew —I wanted to gather them one by one And bring them to you.But never now, my darling, Can I gather the mountain-tipsFrom the twilight like half-shut lilies To hold to your lips.And never the two-winged vessel That sleeps below on the lakeCan I catch like a moth between my hands For you to take.But hush, I am not regretting: It is far more perfect now.I’ll whisper the ghostly truth to you And tell them howI know you here in the darkness, How you sit in the throne of my eyesAt peace, and look out of the windows In glad surprise. Lago de Garda.