Forlorn I left, and Life forthwith would cease,
Except the endless elegies lamenting in my ears,
As I stand bereaved from my sole perpetual peace,
At end, There lies no hope or chance to seize,
Forever lost all ways to laughs & cheers,
For I have left, and Life forthwith would cease,
I linger in abject despair, for one caprice,
That led oblivion run us through its spears,
& Standing—I—bereaved from my sole perpetual peace,
I wear my grief for Life for that decease,
Fasting & pleading, God would relieve my years,
For since I left, my Life forthwith would cease,
If Time rewinds, I would have withstood seas,
That would set you apart in darkling fears,
& me: bereaved from my sole perpetual peace…
Yet, Now, I stay, in wailing lowliness, on knees,
In endless sighs & cries & moans & tears,
Forlorn I left, and Life forthwith would cease,
Standing; bereaved from my sole perpetual peace…
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