Gone! Gone! Ayea, Thou Art Gone!

Gone! Gone! Ayea, thou art gone!
Gone, and earth doth stand it stark.
Gone! Gone! The even's breath
Doth breathe it unto me
In echo soft; yea, but sharped,
And cutting o' this heart.
Gone! Gone! Aye, thou art gone!
The day is darked, and sun
Hath sorried sore and wrapped him in the dark.
Gone! Gone! This heart doth drip o' drops
With sorry singing o' this song.
Gone! Gone! Yea, thou art gone!
And where, beloved, where?
Doth yonder golden shaft o' light
That pierceth o' the cloud
Then speak unto this heart?
Art thou athin the day's dark hours?
Gone! Gone! What then hath Earth?
What then doth day to bring
To this sorrow-laden heart o' me,
That weepeth blood drops here?
Gone! Gone! Yea, but hark!
For I did trick the sorry, loved;
For where e'er thou art am I.
Yea, this love o' me shall follow thee
Unto the Where, and thou shalt ever know
That though this sorry setteth me
I be where e'er thou art.