Hallo! My Fancy, Whither Wilt Thou Go?

Swift as the tide in the river The blood flows through my heart, At the curious little fancy That to-morrow we must part.

It seems to me all over, The last words have been said; And I have the curious fancy To-morrow will find me dead!

YOU LEFT ME.

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!