TO MY ABSENT HUSBAND.
MY home—how desolate to-night
The parlor and the hall!
Alas! I do believe my heart
More desolate than all;
For everything I try to do
Seems useless, just like play,
And everything perplexes, too,
When, dearest, you're away.
The parlor and the hall!
Alas! I do believe my heart
More desolate than all;
For everything I try to do
Seems useless, just like play,
And everything perplexes, too,
When, dearest, you're away.
The neighbors call; I smile and talk,
And while away the hours,
And sometimes, too, I listless walk
Alone amid the flowers;
I take my work and try to sew,
But as I said before,
Tis all in vain, for you must know
I miss you more and more.
And while away the hours,
And sometimes, too, I listless walk
Alone amid the flowers;
I take my work and try to sew,
But as I said before,
Tis all in vain, for you must know
I miss you more and more.
Last night in dreams I gathered flowers,
And bound them for your sake;
The world seemed like Elysian bowers—
How dreadful to awake,
And bound them for your sake;
The world seemed like Elysian bowers—
How dreadful to awake,
