To ——
We stand apart, yet still thy pictured face
I fondly press to this sad heart of mine—
A vision pale, of happiest years a trace,
My soul rejoices in this gift of thine.
For, though to passions new I’m now resigned,
That once-loved face I cannot cease to love;
The shrine forsaken still retains the shrined;
O’erthrown the image, yet God reigns above.