famous poem

the darkness steals the forms of all the queens
the sun is up
just now
she might have known it in the earlier spring
short and sweet, and we've come to the end of it
friend, whose smile has come to be
she knows a cheap release
that year
musing, between the sunset and the dark
tell me not
leave the lovely words unsaid
tell me
in the cloud-gray mornings
a gleam of gold in gloom and gray