Sister , I cannot read to-day:
Before my eyes the letters stream:
Now, — one by one, — they fade away,
Like shadows in a dream:
All seems a fancy, half forgot:
Sweet sister, do I dream or not?

I cannot work; I cannot rest;
I cannot sing, nor think, to-day
The wild heart panteth in my breast,
As though 'twould break away.
Why — wherefore — Ah, girl! ease my woe,
And tell me — why he tarrieth so!