1. What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why,
  2. I have forgotten, and what arms have lain Under my head till morning;
  3. but the rain Is full of ghosts tonight, that tap and sigh Upon the glass and listen for reply,
  4. And in my heart there stirs a quiet pain For unremembered lads that not again Will turn to me at midnight with a cry.
  5. Thus in winter stands the lonely tree,
  6. Nor knows what birds have vanished one by one,
  7. Yet knows its boughs more silent than before: I cannot say what loves have come and gone,
  8. I only know that summer sang in me A little while, that in me sings no more.