Shall say—"She comes, our friend, no more again!"
A little while—and oh, how great the yearning
To lay the burden down, to be as free
As bird that hails its nest, on wing returning;
So do I think, beloved, of rest and thee!
The rest my weary heart and soul have waited
Through all these years of sorrow and of doubt;
As traveller on his homeward way, belated,
Impatient seeks and can not bide without.
And thee! Oh loved one gone, this year, before me,