good bye poem

but i cannot read you now
sweet with fern and rose
like him whose spirit in the blaze of noon
do you hear the rain?
often i think of the beautiful town
all day to watch the blue wave curl and break
arched the flood
the darkness
there by the window in the old house
with lips blood red and heart of stone
in september
all quiet along the potomac
lady, your heart has turned to dust
muffled drum's sad roll has beat