I.

'T IS long since we were forced to part, at least it seems so to my grief,
For sorrow wearies us like time, but ah! it brings not time's relief;
As in our days of tenderness, before me still she seems to glide;
And, though my arms are wide as then, yet she will not abide.
Tho day-light and the star-light shine, as if her eyes were in their light,
And, whispering in the panting breeze, her love-songs come at lonely night;
While, far away with those less dear, she tries to hide her grief in vain,
For, kind to all while true to me, it pains her to give pain.
II.

I know she never spoke her love, she never breathed a single vow,
And yet I'm sure she loved me then, and still doats on me now;
For when we met, her eyes grew glad, and heavy when I left her side,
And oft she said she'd be most happy as a poor man's bride;
I toiled to win a pleasant home, and make it ready by the spring;
The spring is past — what season now my girl unto our home will bring?
I'm sick and weary, very weary — watching, morning, night, and noon;
How long you're coming — I am dying — will you not come soon?