Deserted

Love came to me in a rosy cloud,
With a golden glory kist;
And caught me up, and in heaven we rode,
Till it melted in mournful mist.
Gone! gone! is the light that shone,
With the dream of my earlier day:
And the wild winds moan, and alone, alone,
I wander my weary way.

The days come and go, and the seasons roll, —
In their glory they pass me by;
And the lords of life and the happy in soul
Walk under a smiling sky.
And the sweet springtide comes back to us o'er
The soothed winter sea; «
But He will return no more, no more,
Never come back to me.

It were better that I lay sleeping
With his baby upon my breast,
Where the weary have done with their weeping,
And the wretched are rockt to their rest.
The world is a desolate, dreary one,
And full of sad tears at best:
God, take back thy wandering weary one,
Like a wounded bird home to its nest.