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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=117569" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Wife's Lament</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Loud howls the wintry blast, the rain descends,<br>And patters heavy on the ice-glazed roof;<br>But yet he comes not. 'T is a dreary night—<br>Long since, the midnight bell hath toll'd the hour.<br>And long, long since, my womanish fears had framed<br>Some reason dread, for absence thus prolong'd,<br>But that so oft 't is thus. Oh! had I once<br>But even thought that thus thy love might change,<br>I should have shudder'd at the bare surmise,<br>And chid myself in anger for the thought.<br>But now, I feel it true, and yet I live,<br>I live to feel thy heart, thyself estranged,<br>From all that once it loved—to sit alone,<br>And number out the weary midnight hours<br>That waste with thee in revelry and mirth,<br>And weep in sadness at thy long delay.<br>Oh, Henry! once—but I will not look back,<br>Nor think of present, past, or future scenes,<br>Or thought would madden me. But hark! again<br>The watch proclaims the second morning hour,<br>And still he lingers. Sure, some dire mischance<br>Delays his coming—but it is not so—<br>How often I have wept in terror wild,<br>And almost wish'd 't were rather guilt, than harm,<br>That kept him from my arms—and he has come,<br>And I have half forgotten all my woe,<br>In joy at his approach, till his cold frown<br>Has chill'd my heart to stone! And yet this night,<br>While all the elements seem bent on war,<br>He surely could not, would not, leave me thus,<br>And join the laugh of riot. Oh, Henry, Henry,<br>Changed, cruel, as thou art, I love thee still!<br>My peace, my life, are woven in thy fate,<br>And freely would I give that life for thine.<br>And thou—thou couldst not change, so wholly change<br>From all I knew thee once—thou lov'st me yet;<br>It is some secret anguish breaks thy peace,<br>And thence thine alter'd looks—But, hark! he comes,<br>Thank heaven, he is safe! Be dry, my tears!<br>My face must wear a smile at his approach;<br>I will not greet him save with looks of joy,<br>Although my aching heart in anguish bleeds,<br>And mourns his early alienated love!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Elizabeth+Margaret+Chandler">Elizabeth Margaret Chandler</a> from <i>Poetical Works</i><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=117569" data-title="The Wife's Lament de Elizabeth Margaret Chandler" data-description="Loud howls the wintry blast, the rain descends,/And patters heavy on the ice-glazed roof;/But yet he comes not. 'T is a dreary night—/Long since, the midnight bell hath toll'd the hour./And long, long since, my womanish fears had framed/Some rea..."></div>
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