I built a fire to welcome her,
And my voice sighed
Aloud her name. To be with her
This night, I would have died….
Upon the hours, all in vain
My tears, the rain,
Fall uselessly, unceasingly….
The heavy door
Has closed again … again!
I wait, yet know she will not brave
The midnight,—give
One hour more, so utterly to live;
Wise and mild and shy,
Afraid as the heart of a child,
I know her heart to be.
And mine, that naught will save,
Must love and live and crave
And break unceasingly!

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