To G. W. D.

"I miss thee at the morning tide,
The glorious hour of prime;
I miss thee more, when day has died,
At "blessed evening time.
As slide the aching hours away,
Still art thou unforgot;
Sleeping or waking, night and day,
When do I miss thee not?
"How can I pass that gladsome door,
"Where every favorite room
Thy presence made so bright before
Is loneliness and gloom? —
Each place where most thou lov'dst to be,
Thy home, thy house of prayer.
Seem yearning for thy company:
I miss thee everywhere."