You are drifting away from me, darling, Further and further each day; The distance grows greater and greater With each hour that is passing away.
And I look o'er the dark, swelling water, And list to the moan of the wind, And I know that each wave bears you forward And leaves me yet further behind.
I know it is useless to watch, dear, You will never return unto me, And all that I've hoped for and prayed for Will never be granted, I see.
My darling, you know not the anguish Or half the misery that's mine, Waiting in vain, with hope deferred, The return of that smile of thine;
For the gulf grows wider and wider, And the further you drift, love, the more I long to recall you, my dearest; But the past and its hopes are now o'er.
I am weary of watching and waiting, Weary of sorrow and strife, Weary of hoping and praying, Weary, so weary of life.
For there's nothing for me in this world, Annie, But the hope of the life to come, And that quiet and unbroken rest In the shelter of the tomb.
