Loss
I stand alone, nor tho' my Heart should break
Have I, to whom I may complain or speak.
Here I stand, a hopeless man and sad
Who hoped to have seen my Love, my Life.
And strange it were indeed, could I be glad
Remembring her, my Soul's betrothed Wife/
For in this World no creature, that has life,
Was e'er to me so gracious & so good/
Her Love was to my Heart, like the Heart-blood.
[?1811. From MS]
Have I, to whom I may complain or speak.
Here I stand, a hopeless man and sad
Who hoped to have seen my Love, my Life.
And strange it were indeed, could I be glad
Remembring her, my Soul's betrothed Wife/
For in this World no creature, that has life,
Was e'er to me so gracious & so good/
Her Love was to my Heart, like the Heart-blood.
[?1811. From MS]
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