WIDOWED.
I have left you, oh! my darling, To your deep and quiet rest;The flowers sweetly breathing out Their beauty on your breast.With your long and curly lashes Sweeping down your marble cheek,And the seal of utter silence On the lips that cannot speak.
Now the pure, pale hands are folded, For their time for work is past,And the tired feet are resting From their weary walk at last.They have left me in the shadow That we feel but cannot see;For the mist of death has shrouded All your higher life from me.
When your steps grew faint and feeble, And your brow so strangely pale,
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