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1850–1919

ABSENCE.

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

After you went away, our lovely room Seemed like a casket whence the soul had fled. I stood in awful and appalling gloom, The world was empty and all joy seemed dead.

I think I felt as one might feel who knew That Death had left him on the earth alone. For “all the world” to my fond heart means you; And there is nothing left when you are gone.

Each way I turned my sad, tear-blinded gaze, I found fresh torture to augment my grief; Some new reminder of the perfect days We passed together, beautiful as brief.

There lay a pleasing book that we had read — And there your latest gift; and everywhere Some tender act, some loving word you said, Seemed to take form and mock at my despair.

All happiness that human heart may know I find with you; and when you go away, Those hours become a winding-sheet of woe, And make a ghastly phantom of To-day.

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ABSENCE. · Ella Wheeler Wilcox · Poetry Cove