Oft Love and I Parted
wild on the ways between worlds :
cleaved paths that lead us, arm-seeking, close
to drift in the far-off fog of yonder.
Oft Love went a way, I the other,
with hearts stretched 'twixt in woe,
and I, amnesed, forgot, and fogged,
wept in the woods, for She whose Love
had held me wrapped in linen-wrapped arms.
Now I hope her Love may find me fast again.