Deserted

No, mother, I am not sad:
    Why think me sad? I was always still,
    You remember, even when my heart was most glad
    And you used to let me dream at my will;
    And now I like better to watch the sea
    And the calm sad sky than to laugh with the rest.
    You know they are full of chatter and glee,
       And I like the quietness best.

       Nay, mother, you look so grave.
  I know what you're thinking and will not say;
  But you need not fear; I am growing brave
  Now that the pain is passing away,
  And I never weep for him now when alone,
  For perhaps it was better — who can tell? —
  That it ended so. I shall soon be well
     Now that the hardest is known.

     I am so much stronger to-day
 I can look at all past and think how it grew
  And how by degrees it faded away,
  That light of my life. Ah! when I first knew
  I had only been a plaything to him
  Through all my loving, it seemed so strange.
  If the high noontide at once grew night-dim
     It would not be such a change.

    I wonder I did not die.
  Mother, I'll own it you now I am strong,
  I used to wake in the night and lie
  Wishing and wishing it might not be long —
  Oh! it was wicked, and you all so kind,
  How could I wish to bring you a grief?
  But too much unhappiness makes one blind
     To all but one's own relief.

     I am not so wicked now;
  You need not fear. I am hoping that still,
  I am learning to lean on God, and I bow,
  Yes I think I bow my heart to His will.
  I found it a long hard struggle to make,
  To clasp my sorrow and say "It is best,"
  But, believe it, you need not fear for my sake;
     Yes, mother, I am at rest:

    Yet, listen, if I should die soon —
  And I know what they say, though you hide it from me —
  Mother, you'll grant me my last-asked boon,
  That you'll try not to think it his fault, and if he,
  Mother, if he should seek you some day,
  You will not make him a hard reply,
  But tell him, before I passed away,
     I sent him kind good-bye.

     Mother, kiss me, do not cry.
  I could not keep from speaking of this;
  It is nothing to say "If I should die,"
  It cannot bring death more near than it is;
  And I am much stronger. You shall not weep —
  Who is it tells me that weeping is wrong?
  But let me lean on your lap and sleep,
     I lay waking last night too long.