11
II.
May morning light fall o'er thee
When I am far away;
Let hope's, sweet light restore thee
All we have dreamed to-day.
I would not have thee keep me
In mind by tears alone;
I would not have thee weep me,
Sweet love, when I am gone.
No, as the brook is flowing
With sunshine at its side;
While fair wild flowers are growing,
All lovely o'er the tide,
So, linked with many a treasure
Of nature and of spring,
With all that gives thee pleasure,
My heart to thine shall cling.
The rose shall be enchanted
To breathe of love to thee;
All fair things shall be haunted
With vows of faith for me.
The west wind shall secure thee
My tidings from the main,
But most of all assure thee
How soon we meet again.
L. E. L.