Papa's Post: How I Miss You!
Awake, I see the mistress of my throne Her warmth, her face of beauty and her scent Of rose-milk. But I find, I am alone. Ah raging torment born of love unspent! "Reveille!" You are a boon! I'll make An obsession of my work; I must not rest Or else these thoughts of you return and break Me with their searing yearnings unexpressed. At last "Retreat" is sounded, all is done. And now the crickets chirp a promise of dreams. But the dream is a sad and empty one--- I walked alone, alone on the moon-beams! The tears I wept are in the morning dew The winds now wail my want---how I miss you! ...