My love with the true, true heart,
To think I have come to this your home,
And yet—we are apart!
My love! He stood at my right hand,
His eyes were grave and sweet;
Methought he said: "In this far land,
O, is it thus we meet?
Ah, maid most dear, I am not here;
I have no place, no part,
No dwelling more by sea or shore,