Just to draw near, some silent hour, alone,
Unheralded, unwelcomed, and behold
Her husband and remember him her own,
And be quite near him only as of old:
And perchance, for some grief that was exprest
Plainly upon his face, she might have dared
To enter in, and after all been blest
Some remnant of his pity to have shared.
—Alas, too surely, for long years, all thought
And love of her had perished from his heart;
Until on all her memory were wrought
Dishonour, and with him she had no part;
—And this the while, so held of alien joys,
She spared no thought for him and for his pain,
Nor fancied the least echo of his voice
Sent forth a thousand times to her in vain;
When, might-be many a time, his earnest grief
Sent it so truly seeking her quite near,
Vainly it fell on some dumb flower or leaf
Beside her, never cherished in her ear.
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