“Ah! What weary, weary sorrows
    Have I known through loss of thee,
And what comfortless to-morrows
    Wait me in this misery!
Were we not to one another
    Once the sum of all sweet gain?
Say then—say unto thy mother,
    Shall we ever meet again?
    Darling, shall we meet again,
Knowing, loving one another?”

But the wind alone is heard
    Sighing in reply,
Where the long grave-grass is stirred
    As it floweth by.