I scanned her picture dreaming,

   Till each dear line and hue

Was imaged, to my seeming,

   As if it lived anew.

Her lips began to borrow

   Their former wondrous smile;

Her fair eyes, faint with sorrow,

   Grew sparkling as erstwhile.

Such tears as often ran not

   Ran then, my love, for thee;

And O, believe I cannot

   That thou are lost to me!