WIFE TO HUSBAND.

Pardon the faults in me,

For the love of years ago:

Good by.

I must drift across the sea,

I must sink into the snow,

I must die.

You can bask in this sun,

You can drink wine, and eat:

Good by.

I must gird myself and run,

Though with unready feet:

I must die.

Blank sea to sail upon,

Cold bed to sleep in:

Good by.

While you clasp, I must be gone

For all your weeping:

I must die.

A kiss for one friend,

And a word for two,—

Good by:—

A lock that you must send,

A kindness you must do:

I must die.

Not a word for you,

Not a lock or kiss,

Good by.

We, one, must part in two:

Verily death is this:

I must die.