I thought, you, my sweetheart beau
Could not grow cold like those I know.
That, you, all others would forget,
And always be my, lover yet,
You choose to leave and go afar
And thousands miles our courtship bar.
I’m getting old, can’t hear or see
So dump we go I’m just debris.
I took our marriage as a bond
And every day I grow more fond:
Ah, yes how can I e’re forget
When first my lips and your lips met.
And of the time you said O. K.
You would be mine our wedding day.
That love my dear is wide and deep
But now your love I cannot keep.
My Sweetheart Yet
(written when wife was visiting in 1957)
H E Crane
