A Tryst

I WILL not break the tryst, my dear,
— That we have kept so long,
Though winter and its snows are here,
— And I've no heart for song.

You went into the voiceless night;
— Your path led far away.
Did you forget me, Heart's Delight,
— As night forgets the day?

Sometimes I think that you would speak
— If still you held me dear;
But space is vast, and I am weak —
— Perchance I do not hear.

Surely, howe'er remote the star
— Your wandering feet may tread,
When I shall pass the sundering bar
— Our souls must still be wed.
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