"
Then came the tidings brought by Robert's hand,
Victor lay buried in a far off land;
Died, wafting my name up to Heaven in prayer,
Leaving his promised bride to Robert's care.
Oft it has puzzled me, until my brain
Has racked itself from thinking into pain,
Why Victor left me thus, for in the past
He surely loved not Robert, perhaps at last
He saw things differently and thought it best
And had his wishes writ, e're he could rest.
But oh, the agony of those past hours;
It seems on looking back, that all my flowers
Looked mournfully at me and drooped their heads,
And lay like dying children in their beds;
And the bright birds in the vine-covered wall
Sang the sad chords of "The Dead March in Saul;"
And I was living, but all else were dead,
The sunbeam shimmered sickly o'er my head,
As when a ray peers in a darkened room,
Where one beneath a pall awaits his tomb.
Robert was ever near when Victor died,
And soon he sought to win me for his bride;
He told me how he'd loved me many years,
Loved him I loved, kindly he dried my tears,
Pictured my desolate and lonely lot,
Urged me to go with him to some new spot
Where all the past should be but as a dream,
And our lives glide gently down life's stream.
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