Is worse than all life’s agony to me.
Thou couldst have died for us, beloved, but we,
E’en when all hope is lost, will live for thee.
“They cannot separate our souls from thine,
They cannot part us wheresoe’er we roam,
Or place aught else within the sacred shrine,
Where dwell thy wife and children. Loved one, come,
Give me mine only home within thy heart—
I’ll bear it with me—let us hence depart.”
It is the summer twilight. Dark the shades