To Lynette.

God knows that I love you, I love you, and yet
He knows, too, I'm weary, Lynette, O Lynette!
He gave me the love-feeling, the tired feeling, too;
Will He take them together, and part me from you?
Could I sleep for a hundred sun-seasons, and then
Wake ... would you be waiting to kiss me again?
To live still and love you, life-weary ... and yet
Would even Death charm me without you, Lynette!