CHAPTER XXV.
“HAD YOU ONLY WAITED TILL THIS MORNING.”
“Farewell! I shall not be to thee
More than a passing thought,
But every time and place will be
With thy remembrance fraught.
Fruitless as constancy may be,
No chance, no change, may turn from thee
One who has loved thee wildly, well,
But whose first love vow breathed farewell.”