To an Absentee
Thomas Hood
1799 to 1845
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O'er hill, and dale, and distant sea,
Through all miles that stretch between,
My thought must fly to on thee,
And would, though worlds should intervene.
Nay, art now so dear, methinks
The farther we are apart,
Affection's firm elastic links
But bind the closer the heart.
For now we sever each from each,
learned what I have lost in thee;
Alas, that else could teach
How great indeed my love should be!
Farewell! I did not know thy worth;
But thou gone, and now 'tis prized:
So angels walk'd unknown earth,
But when they flew were recognized!