Annie—Oh! what a weary while
It seems since that sad day;
When whispering a fond "good bye,"
I tore myself away.
And yet, 'tis only two short years;
How has it seemed to thee?
To me, those lonesome years appear
Like an eternity.
We loved,—Ah, me! how much we loved;
How happy passed the day
When pouring forth enraptured vows,
The charmed hours passed away.
In every leaf we beauty saw,—
In every song and sound,
Some sweet entrancing melody,
To soothe our hearts we found.
And now it haunts me as a dream,—
A thing that could not be!—
That one so pure and beautiful
Could ever care for me.
But I still have the nut-brown curl,
Which tells me it is true;
And in my fancy I can see
The brow where once it grew.
Those eyes, whose pensive, loving light,
Did thrill me through and through:
Still follow me by day and night,
As they were wont to do.
Thy smile still haunts me, and thy voice,
At times I seem to hear;
And when the scented zephyrs pass
I fancy thou art near.
'Twill not be long, dear heart, (although
It will seem long to me;)
Until I clasp thee once again;
To part no more from thee.
Though storms may roar, and oceans rage
And furies vent their spleen;—
There's naught shall keep me from my love;
My beautiful;—my queen!