Poems (Sherwin)/To the absent one

by Elizabeth Sherwin

TO THE ABSENT ONE.

I miss thee when the kindling east
 Is flecked at early dawn with red;
And earth seems all a dreary waste,
 For joy from my sad heart hath fled.

I miss thee when the glowing day
 Hath shed her light on hill and glen,
And when I feel its genial ray,
 How much, dear child, I miss thee then.

I miss thee in the twilight shade,
 When wandering through the meadow fair,
And breathe thy name through every glade,
 But all in vain—thou art not there.