I Remember Not
I remember not
these stones, upon which I stand,
though they were here
when once we did tread.
I remember not
this bench, upon which I rest,
though it was here
in the life we once lead.
I remember not
these hands, with which I write,
though I once wore them
when I struck Christ and he bled.
I remember not
these thoughts, upon which I dwell,
though once I did think them
in my anguish and your dread.
I remember not
this heart, that now fails me,
but it remembers you, my love
though my thoughts have now fled.