Where are we now, we two of kindred mind,

Our hearts and souls still bound together—one;

Yet stark division cast in time we find

Each forced to stand as self, apart, alone.

What hand will reach the first across the wide?

Whose lips express remorse unto which ear,

As we in heavy silence now abide,

Where every minute lengthens to a year?

We cannot lay dear love in battle down,

And watch her blood drain dry upon the field;

In homage to sweet past my head I bow

And so on bended knee now choose to yield;

I cannot live a day without your love—

Your heart this meek contrition yet may move.