When in the Darkness I Wake Up Alone

When in the darkness I wake up alone,
To face the loveless, desolated day,
What thought shall comfort, or what hope shall stay?
Ah, Love, dear Love, Sweetheart that wast mine own,
Thou wilt not hear my spirit's bitter moan, —
Thou wilt not see the terrible array
Of foemen marching on my destined way,
With ruthless hands and hearts more hard than stone.

I shall be left in those old ways to tread
Where Love and Sorrow walked with thee and me:
For thee, ghosts of old days, unquiet dead;
Days glad in life, and sad in memory, —
For me, to bow down weary heart and head
On dead Hope's grave, till I be dead as she.