No, mother, I am not sad: 
Why think me sad? I was always still, 
You remember, even when my heart was most glad 
And you used to let me dream at my will; 
And now I like better to watch the sea 
And the calm sad sky than to laugh with the rest. 
You know they are full of chatter and glee, 
And I like the quietness best. 

Nay, mother, you look so grave. 
I know what you're thinking and will not say; 
But you need not fear; I am growing brave 
Now that the pain is passing away, 
And I never weep for him now when alone, 
For perhaps it was better -- who can tell? -- 
That it ended so. I shall soon be well 
Now that the hardest is known. 

I am so much stronger to-day 
I can look at all past and think how it grew 
And how by degrees it faded away, 
That light of my life. Ah! when I first knew 
I had only been a plaything to him 
Through all my loving, it seemed so strange. 
If the high noontide at once grew night-dim 
It would not be such a change. 

I wonder I did not die. 
Mother, I'll own it you now I am strong, 
I used to wake in the night and lie 
Wishing and wishing it might not be long -- 
Oh! it was wicked, and you all so kind, 
How could I wish to bring you a grief? 
But too much unhappiness makes one blind 
To all but one's own relief. 

I am not so wicked now; 
You need not fear. I am hoping that still, 
I am learning to lean on God, and I bow, 
Yes I think I bow my heart to His will. 
I found it a long hard struggle to make, 
To clasp my sorrow and say "It is best," 
But, believe it, you need not fear for my sake; 
Yes, mother, I am at rest: 

Yet, listen, if I should die soon -- 
And I know what they say, though you hide it from me -- 
Mother, you'll grant me my last-asked boon, 
That you'll try not to think it his fault, and if he, 
Mother, if he should seek you some day, 
You will not make him a hard reply, 
But tell him, before I passed away, 
I sent him kind good-bye. 

Mother, kiss me, do not cry. 
I could not keep from speaking of this; 
It is nothing to say "If I should die," 
It cannot bring death more near than it is; 
And I am much stronger. You shall not weep -- 
Who is it tells me that weeping is wrong? 
But let me lean on your lap and sleep, 
I lay waking last night too long.