Poem by Ernest Christopher Dowson

Jadis

Erewhile, before the world was old,
When violets grew and celandine,
In Cupid's train we were enrolled:
           Erewhile!
Your little hands were clasped in mine,
Your head all ruddy and sun-gold
Lay on my breast which was your shrine,
And all the tale of love was told:
Ah, God, that sweet things should decline,
And fires fade out which were not cold,
           Erewhile.

1. Quid Non Supremus, Amantes?
2. Epigram
3. Vain Resolves
4. Villanelle of Marguerite's
5. Soli Cantare Periti Arcades

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