Chide not; let me breathe a little, For I shall not mourn him long. Tho' the life-cord was so brittle The love-cord was very strong. I would wake a little space Till I find a sleeping-place. You can go, I shall not weep; You can go unto your rest; My heart-ache is all too deep, And too sore my throbbing breast. Can sobs be, or angry tears, Where are neither hopes nor fears? Tho' with you I am alone, And must be so everywhere, I will make no useless moan; None shall say: "She could not bear;" While life lasts I will be strong, But I shall not struggle long. Listen, listen! everywhere A low voice is calling me, And a step is on the stair, And one comes ye do not see. Listen, listen! evermore A dim hand knocks at the door. Hear me: he is come again; My own dearest is come back. Bring him in from the cold rain; Bring wine, and let nothing lack. Thou and I will rest together, Love, until the sunny weather. I will shelter thee from harm, Hide thee from all heaviness; Come to me, and keep thee warm By my side in quietness. I will lull thee to thy sleep With sweet songs; we will not weep. Who hath talked of weeping? yet There is something at my heart Gnawing, I would fain forget, And an aching and a smart -- Ah my Mother, 'tis in vain For he is not come again. |