The Deserter
I know not why or whence he came Or how he chanced to go;I only know he brought me love And going, left me woe.
I do not ask that he turn back, Nor seek where he may rove;For where woe rules can never be The dwelling place of love.
For love went out the door of hope, And on and on has fled;Caring no more to dwell within The house where faith is dead.
