I love him,
I dream of him,
I sing of him by day;
And all the night I hear him talk,
-- And yet he's far away.
There's beauty in the morning,
There's sweetness in the May,
There's music in the running stream;
And yet he's far away.
I love him,
I trust in him;
He trustesth me always:
And so the time flies hopefully,
Although he's far away.
-Barry Cornwall
Sunday, June 11, 2006
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