A poem by Nora Pembroke

We came to the dividing line,
Then he passed over and I am here,
Sad and sore is this heart of mine
That has no power to shed a tear,
For, like one who rises and walks in sleep,
I am lost in a dream--I cannot weep.

Yet he was good and fair to see
I know in my heart he loved me well,
What separated him from me,
I cannot tell, oh! I cannot tell,
For the blow came sudden, and sharp, and sore,
And I am alone now for evermore.

I thought to walk through all our time
Together, linked to a lofty aim;
With sudden wrench I'm left behind--
My heart is slain! oh, my heart is slain!
And the ghost of my heart within me cries,
Why, alas! was I made a sacrifice?

My royal eagle ordained to soar--
Breast to the storm, and eyes to the sun--
Up be thy flight! and think no more
Of one the life of whose life is done;
While I, stunned and sick with a dumb despair,
Still mourn by the grave of a hope so fair.

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