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Rh The years were then to me, Mary!

As hours are now to me;

As time is now to thee, Mary!

In Heaven above to thee.

For Love knows nought of years, Mary!

Love nothing knows of years;

And sheds no bitter tears, Mary!

Time measured is by tears.

Thus thou wert that to me, Mary!

That all on earth to me,

That I will be to thee, Mary!

In Heaven above to thee.

What thou art now above, Mary!

I was, as if above;

For Heaven is made of love, Mary!

And I was full of love.

For thou wert that to me, Mary!

That all on earth to me,

That I will be to thee, Mary!

In Heaven above to thee.

But now these days are gone, Mary!

These are gone!

And I am left alone, Mary!

Alone on earth—alone!

What would I give to see, Mary!

Thy precious form to see?

All thou wouldst give to be, Mary!

In this dark world with me.