You left me, and the anguish passed,
And passed the day, and passed the night—
A blank in which my senses failed;
Then slowly came an inward light.
So plain it reproduced the hours
We lived as one,—the books we read,
Our quiet walks and pleasant talks—
Love, by your spirit was I led?
Oh, love, the vision grows too dear,
I live in visions—I pursue
Them only; come, your rival meet,
My future bring, it will be—you!