Classic Poem

You left me when the weary weight of sorrow
—Lay, like a stone, upon my bursting heart;
It seemed as if no shimmering tomorrow
—Could dry the tears that you had caused to start.
You left me, never telling why you wandered—
—Without a word, without a last caress;
Left me with but the love that I had squandered,
—The husks of love and a vast loneliness.

And yet if you came back with arms stretched toward me,
—Came back tonight, with carefree, smiling eyes,
And said: “My journeying has somehow bored me,
—And love, though broken, never, never dies!”
I would forget the wounded heart you gave me,
—I would forget the bruises on my soul.
My old-time gods would rise again to save me;
—My dreams would grow supremely new and whole.
What though youth lay, a tattered garment, o'er you?
—Warm words would leap upon my lips, long dumb;
If you came back, with arms stretched out before you,
—And told me, dear, that you were glad to come!

You left me when the weary weight of sorrow
—Lay, like a stone, upon my bursting heart;
It seemed as if no shimmering tomorrow
—Could dry the tears that you had caused to start.
You left me, never telling why you wandered—
—Without a word, without a last caress;
Left me with but the love that I had squandered,
—The husks of love and a vast loneliness.

And yet if you came back with arms stretched toward me,
—Came back tonight, with carefree, smiling eyes,
And said: “My journeying has somehow bored me,
—And love, though broken, never, never dies!”
I would forget the wounded heart you gave me,
—I would forget the bruises on my soul.
My old-time gods would rise again to save me;
—My dreams would grow supremely new and whole.
What though youth lay, a tattered garment, o'er you?
—Warm words would leap upon my lips, long dumb;
If you came back, with arms stretched out before you,
—And told me, dear, that you were glad to come!