Sunday, 24 May 2015


Dear One, when you are
gone, by day and night
I search, but find no peace
in anything.

The trees, the moon, the sun
no pleasure bring,
As when we two,
star-gazing, took to flight
To land upon some inner
mountain height.

What joy above the sordid
world to sing
With you who are to me
eternal spring!
I see it now that you
are gone from sight.

But you will come again,
and oh, what joy --
Your cheery voice describing
many a land,
The things men build and
ages long destroy,
We, sitting close together,
hand in hand,
Playing as children with
some new-bought toy,
It will be wonderful --
you understand.

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