I stand where thou hast stood, and I retrace
Each look, each word, each gesture, and each tone,
That marked thy speech, or lightened o'er thy face,
And memory makes them o'er and o'er my own.
I dream I hear thy voiceI start, and rise,
And listen, till my soul grows sick in vain,
The wind flies laughing through the starry skies,
And, save my throbbing heart, all's still again.
I dream I see thy formwith eager clasp,
My longing arms are round the phantom thrown,
It fades, it withers, in my frantic grasp,
I wakeI am aloneO Heaven, alone!
Oh wilt thou ne'er return! can no one day
Give back those blessed hours that fled so fast!
My life is rolling dark and fleet away,
The downward wave will ne'er bring back the past.
Forsaken
written byFrances Anne Kemble
© Frances Anne Kemble