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Home  »  library  »  poem  »  Lethe

C.D. Warner, et al., comp. The Library of the World’s Best Literature.
An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.

Lethe

By Edith Matilda Thomas (1854–1925)

From ‘Fair Shadow Land’

REMEMBRANCE followed him into the skies.

They met. Awhile mute Sorrow held him thrall.

Then broke he forth in spirit words and sighs:—

“Great was my sin, but at my contrite call

Came pardon and the hope of Paradise;

If this be Heaven, thy blessing on me fall!”

She looked. Peace filled her unremembering eyes;

She knew him not—she had forgotten all.