“In English speech, my lady said, There are no sweet half-partings made-- Words half regret, half joy, that tell We meet again and all is well. Ah, not for sunny hours or days Its grave ‘Farewell’ our England says; Nor for a moment’s absence, true, Utters its prayer, ‘God be with you.’ Other the thoughts that Love may reach, In the grave tones of English speech; Deeper than Fancy’s passing breath, The blessing stands for life or death. If Heaven in wrath should rule it so, If earth were capable of woe So bitter as that this might be The last dear word ’twixt thee and me-- Thus Love in English speech, above All lighter thoughts, breathes: ‘Farewell, Love; For hours or ages if we part, God be with thee, where’er thou art. To no less hands than His alone I trust thy soul out of mine own.’ Thus speaks the love that, grave and strong Can master death, neglect, and wrong, Yet ne’er can learn, long as it lives, To limit the full soul it gives, Or cheat the parting of its pain With light words ’Till we meet again.’ Ah, no, while on a moment’s breath Love holds the poise ’twixt life and death, He cannot leave who loves thee, sweet, With light postponement ’Till we meet;’ But rather prays, ‘Whate’er may be My life or death, God be with _thee_! Though one brief hour my course may tell, Ever and ever Fare _thou_ well.’” Probably the readers of this history will think that Colin deserved his fate.