Ye left me! and earth's flowers grew fill'd
With records of the past,
And stars pour'd down another light
Than o'er my youth they cast:
The skylark sings not as he sang
When ye were by my side,
And mournful tones are in the wind,
Unheard before ye died!
Thou art welcome, O thou summoner!
Why should the last remain?
What eye can reach my heart of hearts,
Bearing in light again?
Even could this be—too much of fear
O'er love would now be thrown—
Away, away! from time, from change,
To dwell amidst mine own!
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