He will come in passing, in hopeless years
My love, my joy, his very life my bliss
He will pass as I shift, vacillating through longing
So I might miss him searching too, in the mist
He will come in maddening, in dreams of him
Where I shall see, but wake not to touch,
Not to know for myself, loves wrath being weary,
And possessed by this songs hapless clutch.
He come...