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COMING
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Then, you think, we sprang to greet her—
Sprang with outstretched hands, to meet her;
Clasped her in our arms once more,
As in happy days of yore;
Poured warm kisses on her cheek,
Passive lips and forehead meek,
Till the barrier melted down
That had thus between us grown.

Ah no!—Darling, did you know
When we bent above you so?
When our tears fell down like rain,
And our hearts were wild with pain?
Did you pity us that day,
Even as holy angels may
Pity mortals here below,
While they wonder at their woe?

Who can tell us? Word nor sign
Came from those pale lips of thine;
Loving hearts and yearning breast
Lay in coldest, calmest rest.
Is thy Heaven so very fair
That thou dost forget us there?
Speak, belovèd! Woe is me
That in vain I call on thee!