Page:Records of Woman.pdf/15

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II. 'Tis past!—I wake, A captive, and alone, and far from thee, My love and friend! Yet fostering, for thy sake, A quenchless hope of happiness to be; And feeling still my woman's spirit strong, In the deep faith which lifts from earthly wrong, A heavenward glance. I know, I know our love Shall yet call gentle angels from above, By its undying fervour; and prevail, Sending a breath, as of the spring's first gale, Thro' hearts now cold; and, raising its bright face, With a free gush of sunny tears erase The characters of anguish; in this trust, I bear, I strive, I bow not to the dust, That I may bring thee back no faded form, No bosom chill'd and blighted by the storm, But all my youth's first treasures, when we meet, Making past sorrow, by communion, sweet.