RevShirls answered this one in Body & Soul a few days ago. The poem is called "Time does not bring relief: you all have lied" by Edna St. Vincent Millay (1892-1950). Here it is:
Time does not bring relief: you all have lied
Who told me time would ease me of my pain!
I miss him in the weeping of the rain:
I want him at the shrinking of the tide;
The old snows melt from ev'ry mountain side,
And last year's leaves are smoke in every lane;
But last year's bitter loving must remain
Heaped on my heart and my old thoughts abide.
There are a hundred places where I fear To go, so with his memory they brim.
And entering with relief some quiet place
Where never fell his foot or shone his face.
I say "There is no mem'ry of him here,"
And so stand stricken, so remembering him.