Waiting

You told me you would always be

A true and loyal friend to me.

You said that naught could come between

Our love that long, long years had been.

That years would come, and fade away,

And we’d grow old, and bent and gray,

But you, sweetheart, would ever be

A true and loyal friend to me.

The years have come and gone as we

Predicted, sweetheart, you and me,

Except that you have silent grown

And left me weeping at love’s throne.

Send me a line that I may know

True were those words of long ago!

Dec. 8, 1905