(Woking Necropolis)

Plight my troth to the dead, Love? 
  How can that be?
Youth is swift to wed love, 
  What does it matter to thee,
With the banked earth over head Love, 
  Whither our hopes are fled Love,
Where are the words we said Love,
  By the grey wind troubled sea?

Lying so silent there Love, 
  Silent, alone,
Forget the oaths we sware Love, 
  Forget that thou wast mine own,
When Life was very fair Love,
  And soul to soul lay bare Love, 
Forget that these things were Love
  Rest calm beneath the stone

Forget the life we led Love, 
  Life's hope, Life's pain—
Our time together is fled Love,
  And only regrets remain—
Hear me from that chill bed Love, 
  Now all is finished Love,
If prayer be allowed to the dead Love, 
  Pray that we meet again—

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