Recollections Of

When you are gone away from me, I spend
The weary time in thinking of the past,
Of how I'm glad that some parts did not last,
And of how sad I am that some must end.
I do not miss the days you were my friend
Only, but I'm glad we were so cast,
And that we bound ourselves so very fast
Unto each other, which in time would mend
Into what we have now. Yet thinking back
I joy in what we had, and in compare,
For in the present I am well aware
Of all the contradictions we could pack
Into one friendship, which is now well altered;
And yet no whit has any of it faltered.