To A.V.M.

Though borne like withered leaves upon a stream,
Faded and dead, they would not live again,
Nor, in the hard world, face the wiles of men
Their past is but the haunting of a dream.

And yet they would not sleep in asphodel.
Nor, for without remorse is their regret,
Drink deep of bliss and utterly forget
Not for all Heaven would they exchange their
Hell.

And they give thanks because their punishment
Is sealed and sure, because their doom shall be
To go in anguish through Eternity,

Together on the never-resting air.
Beyond all happiness is their content
Who know there is no end to their despair.

– from The Collected Poems of Maurice Baring (1911)