Sonnet 27 'I Have No More Time Left For Fleeing Sadness'

I have no more time left, for fleeing Sadness! I have no time left for it, yet it comes… ‘Twas easy, once, to dive into war’s madness, To hear brave pipes, and the beating of the drums… I’ll not forget you this time, my Bright Darling! We’ve loved a hundred times, now, and before, A thousand times, seen the copper leaves go skirling, And more times yet, opened and closed the door. And now, I close the lid, and draw the blanket, Consigning your sweet form to heavenly fires… The door’s closed now, and fire is your anklet For Heaven is not subject to our desires. And so, my Love, although I go to war, I’ll ne’er forget you, nor did I, before.