Come, as thou cam’st a thousand times,
A messenger from radiant climes,
And smile on thy new world, and be
As kind to others as to me!

    Or, as thou never cam’st in sooth,
Come now, and let me dream it truth,
And part my hair, and kiss my brow,
And say—My love! why sufferest thou?

    Come to me in my dreams, and then
By day I shall be well again!
For so the night will more than pay
The hopeless longing of the day.