Menella Bute Smedley

1820-1877 / England

A Remembrance

Other thoughts have parted me
From thy tender memory;
Spaces like a cloudy sea
Lie between mine eyes and thee.
Buried sunsets heave and glow
Where I would but must not go;
Purple storm and golden veil
Make the lovely distance pale.
O! I want, across the cloud,
Once to hear thee speak aloud;
Not with those faint tones that seem
Like a summons in a dream;
Not with those faint tones that fleet
Daily by me in the street,
Ceasing but to sound again,
While I turn my head in vain.
One vast moment, to content
Hunger of my banishment;
One strong clasp, and then I know
I could bear to let thee go!
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