Alfred Lord Tennyson
Gone!
Gone!
Gone till the end of the year!
Gone, and the light gone with her
And left me in shadow here!
Gone! flitted away
Taken the stars from the night
And the sun from the day!
Gone, and a cloud in my heart
And a storm in the air!
Flown to the east or the west
Flitted I know not where!
Down in the south is a flash and a groan:
She is there!
She is there!