I leave Harry's home 'neath a star-lit sky,
And my heart beats high with a single hope.




And my heart beats high with a single hope,
Which has come on a sudden when unsought;
In all the wide world there is only scope
For a single hope and a single thought.
O why should a wide world have more than this?
When after all has been done and been said,
'Tis a single grief or a single bliss
That rekindles a life or strikes it dead.




Clasp'd in her arms, with her tears on my cheek,
Her kind husband warmly grasping my hand,
In statue-like calm, I move not nor speak--
A silent machine for one purpose plann'd.

'O white little face,' she tremblingly cries,
'It cannot be yours, that white little face;
O when did you get those far-seeking eyes?
And the stillness in lieu of girlish grace?'

And looking at me she drew back alarm'd,
She felt that _something_ divided us;