Poetry Archives

You left me, and the anguish passed,
  And passed the day, and passed the night—
A blank in which my senses failed;
  Then slowly came an inward light.

So plain it reproduced the hours
  We lived as one,—the books we read,
Our quiet walks and pleasant talks—
  Love, by your spirit was I led?

Oh, love, the vision grows too dear,
  I live in visions—I pursue
Them only; come, your rival meet,
  My future bring, it will be—you!