memorial poem

when night drifts along the streets of the city
it was the autumn of the year
one sweetly solemn thought
not from the whole wide world
sad are they who know not love
she might have known it in the earlier spring
a mile behind
i cannot always feel his greatness
musing, between the sunset and the dark
i stood by the open casement
let us pity those who are better off than we are
night is dark, and the winter winds
out of me unworthy and unknown