Elaine

OH, come again to Astolat!
       I will not ask you to be kind.
     And you may go when you will go,
       And I will stay behind.

     I will not say how dear you are,
       Or ask you if you hold me dear,
     Or trouble you with things for you
       The way I did last year.

     So still the orchard, Lancelot,
       So very still the lake shall be,
     You could not guess--though you should guess--
       What is become of me.

     So wide shall be the garden-walk,
       The garden-seat so very wide,
     You needs must think--if you should think--
       The lily maid had died.

     Save that, a little way away,
       I'd watch you for a little while,
     To see you speak, the way you speak,
       And smile,--if you should smile.

        Edna St. Vincent Millay