Wanderloss
This is then, why I, part deaf
In meekness questing your gentle voice,
Why, part blind to your form and fashion
My mind's eye still looks for you,
A numbness, though parceled, is stubborn-frightful,
Especially as the touch of you lingers
Bearing sweetly fresh upon a dream
As your scented airs grow feint
And the hours now spoil my heart, yearning
And I taste for nothing hand to mouth
As this, my new subsistence way
Is dull upon all my senses waning
But for one, but for one -
The agony I feel, the agony,
Which bears me to your resting place
To not feel you, see or hear you,
But only to love you empty -
Weep, and love you empty,
Oh, how I love you so.
In meekness questing your gentle voice,
Why, part blind to your form and fashion
My mind's eye still looks for you,
A numbness, though parceled, is stubborn-frightful,
Especially as the touch of you lingers
Bearing sweetly fresh upon a dream
As your scented airs grow feint
And the hours now spoil my heart, yearning
And I taste for nothing hand to mouth
As this, my new subsistence way
Is dull upon all my senses waning
But for one, but for one -
The agony I feel, the agony,
Which bears me to your resting place
To not feel you, see or hear you,
But only to love you empty -
Weep, and love you empty,
Oh, how I love you so.
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