A Superscription

Look in my face; my name is Might-have-been; I am also call'd No-more, Too-late, Farewell; Unto thine ear I hold the dead-sea shell Cast up thy Life's foam-fretted feet between; Unto thine eyes the glass where that is seen Which had Life's form and Love's, but by my spell Is now a shaken shadow intolerable, Of ultimate things unutter'd the frail screen. Mark me, how still I am! But should there dart One moment through thy soul the soft surprise Of that wing'd Peace which lulls the breath of sighs,-- Then shalt thou see me smile, and turn apart Thy visage to mine ambush at thy heart Sleepless with cold commemorative eyes.