You appear to menLike rain after a dry spellnLike growth after a hard yearnLike life after deathnAnd it had been so longnYet my eye could discern less beautynIn its object than my memory maintainednSo I whispered to myself,nAll is but illusionnYou did well to love himnIt gave you songs to write,nAnd kept you safenAnd with a sigh of relief,nI let you gonBut you would not gonFor you came to me in the air about younAnd you walked with menFrom the other side of townnAnd you touched menWith your hands nBehind your backnSo I whispered,nAll is but illusionnYou were wise to look closernYou have lost nothingnOn the exchange of a face for a soulnWhatever happens now,nYou have been constantnAnd let no one say you never loved