And our lives stood before me pale and gray;
My heart turn'd sick—I was feeling afraid—
As I kept kissing Harry's tears away.
And must his life be so faint and so dim?
And his heart be rack'd by a useless pain?
While I'm always trying to comfort him,
And always trying to comfort in vain?
Ah no, my beloved, it shall not be so,
I will try so hard—I will pray so much;
Comfort will come to you, Harry, I know,