Shall passion feel no more."
E'en love for thee forsakes my soul—
Thy work, relentless see,
Near as I am life's destin'd gaol,
I'm frozen—less than thee.
Yet take this heart—I ne'er had more
To give thee in thy need:
Search well—for at its inmost core,
Thy pardon thou may'st read.
T.R.P.