Advertisement

HOW KNOW MY FATE?

I DO not dream o'er dying embers,

Or castles built in smould'ring fire.

How know my fate? My soul remembers;

The past, my prophet, is no liar.

For, thinking how I left thee late

Advertisement

And thinking of that parting's pain,

With fate's consent, or spite of fate,

I felt I'd clasp thee soon again.

Advertisement