Chapter 217 of 280 · 47 words · ~1 min read

I.

Must thou go, my glorious Chief, Severed from thy faithful few? Who can tell thy warrior's grief, Maddening o'er that long adieu?[nr] Woman's love, and Friendship's zeal, Dear as both have been to me--[ns] What are they to all I feel, With a soldier's faith for thee?[nt]