Frederick William Harvey

Loneliness

On Where’s the use to write?
 
What can I tell you, dear?
 
Just that I want you so
 
Who are not near.
Just that I miss the lamp whose blessed light
Was God’s own moon to shine upon my night,
And newly mourn each new day’s lost delight
Just—oh, it will not ease my pain—
 
That I am lonely
 
Until I see you once again,
 
You—you only.
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