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I Challenge not the oracle
That drove you from my board:
I bow before the dark decree
That scatters as I hoard.
You vanished like the sailing ship
That rides far out at sea.
I murmur as your farewell dies
And your form floats from me;
Ah! ties are sundered in this hour:
No tide of fortune rare
Shall bring the heart I owned before,
And my love's loss repair.
When voyagers make a foreign port,
And leave their precious prize,
Returning home they bear for freight
A bartered merchandise.
Alas! When you come back to me,
And come not as of yore,
But with your alien wealth and peace,
Can we be lovers more ?
I gave you up to go your ways,
O you whom I adored!
Love hath no ties, but Destiny
Shall cut them with a sword.

Sidney H. Morse.