Thou lovedst me, a wretch of no degree,
And saved my soul when I was lost and wild;
We reached the heights where only saints may be,
From envy’s breath and worldly fear exiled.
Our days like long and golden years did seem,
In partings and in meetings joy was found;
But life hath vanished like a phantom’s dream,
By my own folly to the shadows bound.
Thy youth for fleeting moments thou didst trade,
And gave thy self with mercy most divine;
No debt of pain thy sacrifice delayed,
No bitter grief could turn that soul of thine.
What sorrows didst thou veil behind a smile?
Perchance thou'lt tell me when the stars grow dim;
That bliss is brittle, and the world is vile,
And death a prize for those who reach the rim.
Now reft of thee, the winds my days do tear,
From edge to edge I wait in vacant strife;
The world is shrunk to one gold portrait there,
Where dwells the only light of all my life.
Oh, let me follow where the ashes fly,
Lest I forget thy face in realms of blue;
With bitter love I'll seek thee 'neath the sky,
And pray thou knowest that my heart is true.
