I meant to find Her when I came —
Death — had the same design —
But the Success — was His — it seems —
And the Surrender — Mine —

I meant to tell Her how I longed
For just this single time —
But Death had told Her so the first —
And she had past, with Him —

To wander — now — is my Repose —
To rest — To rest would be
A privilege of Hurricane
To Memory — and Me.

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