Ten months (they seem years!)
Since Willie joined the army; and my heart
Bore it until his letters ceased; then tears
Would come—would come!
The Lady.
Why should the letters cease?
The Maiden.
I know not; I could only pray for peace,
And his return. No doubt he could not write,
Perplexed with many duties; his the care
Of a thronged camp, where, ever in his sight,
The new recruits are drilled.
The Lady (thinking).
Oh, faith most rare! (Speaks.) Had you no doubts?
The Maiden.
Why should I doubt? We are
Betrothed—the same forever, near or far!
—He knew my trust
Was boundless as his own.