FULL oft, before the morning
Has the eastern sky made gray,
At the window I've waited, trembling,
And gaz'd far, far away.
And in the hours of noonday
Have I wept, ah, bitterly!
But I meant at heart to murmur,
"Yet will he come to me."
The night, the night is coming,
That I long have sought to shun;
I have lost what I lov'd the dearest -
The day, alas, is done!