Future Forgiveness

How long wilt thou be silent, lying there?
I grieved thee once, and now my heart makes moan,
Cries, and thou wilt not answer, turned to stone,
And pitiless as stone to my despair:
My tears fall on thee, and thou dost not care:
Oh! art thou cruel now who wast so kind;
Or only to my sorrow deaf and blind—
Gone on beyond the hearing of my prayer?

Shall it not be that in thy brighter life
I find thee, move thee to some pitying thrill,
And win thee by my pleading to forgive?
Thou couldst forget past folly and past strife,
Seeing, in that new sphere, I love thee still;
And thou—didst thou not love thou wouldst not live.