2.
I bade you go; ah, wherefore are you gone?
How could you leave me dark and desolate,
O Sun of Love, that for brief summer shone?
Mine eyes are ever on the western gate,
Half-wishing, half-foredreading your return.
Return, O Love, return!
I cannot live without you; through the dark
I stretch blind hands to you across the world;
All day on unknown battle-fields I mark