by Helen Hunt Jackson
That so much change should come when thou dost go, Is mystery that I cannot ravel quite. The very house seems dark as when the light Of lamps goes out. Each wonted thing doth grow So altered, that I wander to and fro Bewildered by the most familiar sight, And feel like one who rouses in the night From dream of ecstasy, and cannot know At first if he be sleeping or awake. My foolish heart so foolish for thy sake, Hath grown, dear one! Teach me to be more wise. I blush for all my foolishness doth lack; I fear to seem a coward in thine eyes. Teach me, dear one, - but first thou must come back!