Wild as the winds that wake them into life,
Through my sore heart the crimson billows roll,
And rush the thoughts tumultuous o’er my soul,
When to my memory’s eye returns that day
They tore thee bleeding from my heart away.
O cursed, yet blessed, all wild with joy and pain,
How cling those moments to my tortured brain—
That last embrace my bosom answers still,
Still to that kiss my lips responsive thrill.
Again mine arms are wildly round thee flung—