She prayed for her impassioned lover
In a warm, impassioned strain,
That proved her heart both warm and true
And free from guilt or stain.
She arose from her kneeling posture
To answer a call at her door:
She smiled as she saw the letter
The hand of the servant bore.
One glance she gave—then burst the seal
With trembling, eager haste,
And rapidly heard the cruel words
My reckless hand had traced.
Her lovely face turned deathly pale
As she wildly clutched the air.
She tottered and fell—a senseless heap—
A prey to dumb despair.
So still she lay I deemed her dead,
And sprang to raise her in my arms.
I loved her with the old, wild love,
And bowed to her peerless charms.