were wrong, my darling; I know
That we all do wrong, and must all repent;
But this horrible depth of nameless woe
Was nothing on earth but an accident.
With your tender heart and your gracious way,
And your temper as gay as cloudless skies,
You would sooner have died that fatal day
Than taken the life of Jack Devize.

O tender heart, art thou lonely and cold,
With no one to comfort or take thy part?
O sweet gay words in the days that are old!
And oh, to be clasp'd to that tender heart!

I am so afraid that you feel remorse
For an end that _indeed_ you could not prevent;
And I am not there to put gentle force
On what you should and should _not_ repent.
I am so afraid that you grieve _too_ much,
With a sorrow that nothing will stop or stay:
O Harry, don't _let_ your sorrow be such;
O darling, you _shall_ be happy some day!

They want to have you; they hunt you to death:
They _cannot_ believe that you _meant_ the deed!
Have they no sense? no perception? no faith?
Are they helmless boats, without God or Creed?

Waiting, waiting, waiting, Harry, for you,
While the dreadful days drag wearily by;
I cannot wait longer--what shall I do?
For till I have kiss'd you I cannot die.

Frighten'd at every movement or sound--
Every thing except one thing forgot--
Always in terror that you have been found--
Would the _first moment_ be rapture or not?

Wandering aimlessly everywhere,
Upstairs and downstairs, from room into room,
Searching for nothing--for nothing is there,
Only the changeless impregnable gloom.

Stifled within, the cool gardens I seek;--
Like poor human souls the flowers all die;
Even the birds are refusing to speak,
Crush'd by the weight of a leaden-gray sky.

Is this the whole of it? is this the end?
Life finish'd off by a heartless Amen?
When will you write to me? when will you send?
When shall I follow you, Harry?--Ah when?

I wander'd far from my hateful abode;
The hour was becoming a little late;
Just there a gate open'd into a road,
And a boy was leaning upon the gate.

Faithful old Rover, who follow'd me out,
Went perfectly frantic beholding this boy,
Sniff'd at his coat, leaping wildly about,
And danced like a dog that dances for joy.

He was a stripling both slender and tall
(My idle eyes vacantly take the view),
His coat was too large, or he was too small,
His nose was