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The Deserted.
WHY didst thou leave me thus? Had memory
No chain to bind thee to me, lone and wrecked
In spirit as I am? Was there no spell
Of power in my deep, yearning love to stir
The sleeping fountain of thy soul, and keep
My image trembling there? Is there no charm
In strong and high devotion such as mine,
To win thee to my side once more? Must I
Be cast for ever off for brighter forms
And gayer smiles? Alas! I love thee still.
Love will not, cannot perish in my heart—
'Twill linger there for ever. Even now
In our own dear, sweet sunset time, the hour
Of passion's unforgotten tryst, I hush