Now I can give the answer to
This scientific gent:
'Tis not from meteoric change—
But just 'cause She has went.
I've read by hundreds love-stuff books,
But ne'er believed one bit
When sun was made to cease to shine
When "She" made her exit.
But now I know that they were right;
From Sol no rays are sent;
It's dull and gray and dismal quite—
And all 'cause She has went.
I cannot read, nor write, nor think
Since She has went, Oh, dear!
Of compensation, though, there's heaps:
For, well, she once was here!
So I'll not mind the fierce heart pain
That naught seems to allay.
She's went, ah me! but I shall hope
That she'll come back some day.
Eternity
She's coming—
The woman I loved and lost!
Widowed at last and once more free.
One hand, two, or arms? Ah, me!
Our meeting, her greeting—....
O what will it be?
She's coming—
The woman I loved—and love!
Long have I waited so hopelessly;
One year, all—yet faithfully.
Returning! I'm yearning....
Be kind, gods, to me!
Yes, coming!
O woman beloved of all,
Come to arms that still ache so for thee!
One age, two, Eternity
For loving, for Loving
Awaits you and me.
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