 | Impressions of Italy and Other Poems |  |
148
AND ART THOU GONE?
And art thou gone—thou dear One—gone?
And I in sorrow and alone—
The Sun may brightly shine to-day,
Reluctantly I meet each ray.
And I in sorrow and alone—
The Sun may brightly shine to-day,
Reluctantly I meet each ray.
Each ray that shining seems to throw
A fuller light upon my woe!
And, like a gilded shaft, to smite
My heart through my tear-troubled sight.
A fuller light upon my woe!
And, like a gilded shaft, to smite
My heart through my tear-troubled sight.
And Oh! there is excuse for tears—
As by a chasmy gulf of years
We're severed now, and torn apart—
There is no dial for the heart!
As by a chasmy gulf of years
We're severed now, and torn apart—
There is no dial for the heart!
Rent by the keenly-furrowing plough
Of Absence, moments yawn and grow
To nameless portions of dull Time,
And mock his measure and his chime.
Of Absence, moments yawn and grow
To nameless portions of dull Time,
And mock his measure and his chime.
| Impressions of Italy and Other Poems | |