The seeded clematis was thrown.
I thought my heart broke in the rush
Of tears that blotted out the flush
Of draping vine and burning bough.
‘Oh, love of mine!’—thus ran my vow—
‘Let Heaven but stoop to hear my prayer,
But lift the cross I cannot bear,
This lonely, living death of pain,
And give my darling back again
To longing heart and straining eyes—