And sinn’d in her despair! It well may be
That thou wouldst lead my spirit back to thee,
By the crush’d hope too long on this world pour’d—
The stricken love which hath perchance adored
A mortal in thy place! Now let me strive
With thy strong arm no more! Forgive, forgive!
Take me to peace!
And peace at last is nigh.
A sign is on my brow, a token sent
Th’ o’erwearied dust from home: no breeze flits by,