LVI
This summer wind with thee and me
Roams in the dawn of day;
But thou must be, when it shall be,
Ere evening—far away.
The farewell's echo from thy soul
Should not depart before
Hills rise and distant rivers roll
Between us evermore.
I know that I have done thee wrong,
Have wronged both thee and Heaven;
And I may mourn my lifetime long
And may not be forgiven.
Repentant tears will vainly fall
To cover deeds untrue,
For by no grief can I recall
The dreary word adieu!
Yet thou a future peace shalt win,
Because thy soul is clear;
And I who had the heart to sin
Will find a heart to bear.
Till far beyond earth's frenzied strife,
That makes destruction joy,
Thy perished faith shall spring to life,
And my remorse shall die.
March 2, 1844.
