The Wife to the Absent Husband

Come back to me, my absent friend! Since thou wast far away, The vernal flowers have lost some charms, Less bright the vernal day. The wild, sweet voices of the fields; Of birds amid the sky; Of streams that wander through the wood, With dreamy melody; Sound not so sweet—and shine less bright, Unto my pensive soul, Since thou wentest forth, O dearest friend, To brook the world's control.

Come back to me! come back to me! Let not the dream of fame, Too long allure thy lingering feet To worship at a name.

Yet, I would have thee nobly strive To win that glorious meed, But still, of Woman's saving love, Hast thou not urgent need?

Come back to me! come back to me! Thou never yet hast known, How lone and desolate I feel When left, by thee, alone.

The dove without her loving mate, Repeats a song like mine— Thus seems, o'er sad, neglected love, To murmur and repine.

Come back to me—oh! quickly come! The joy that I shall know Will more than pay for all this depth Of dark and bitter woe,

Which thou hast doomed my heart to feel Through many a weary day; And I will then forgive thy fault, In lingering thus away.