 | Teresa and Other Poems |  |
66
AUF WIEDERSEHN
When they have writ above meThat I am dust, my dear,
Believe you not,
Nor grieve you not,
And waste no tender tear.
Think this, Love, if you love me—
That every hour you hear
Brings meeting-time
And greeting-time
The nearer and more near.
| Teresa and Other Poems | |