II.
To every word of yours; for you have known
All that I know, and you have skill and art
To tell your story without fret or moan
In musical sweet words. "Twas thus," I say
"With me," and smile as you have smiled before;
"And thus it was with me another day."
And through your tears I feel mine own grief pour.
And I, like you, henceforward stand alone
In silence, where of old Love walked with me,
And laughed and sang and made my youth his own,
Till Love and I seemed one eternally.
But now we part. The years have brought you peace;
To me they bring but sorrow's sharp increase.
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