O friends  I pray tonight  Keep not your kisses for my dead cold brow. The way is lonely  let me feel them now. Think gently of me  I am travel-worn  My faltering feet are pierced with many a thorn. Forgive! O hearts estranged  forgive  I plead! When ceaseless bliss is mine I shall not need The tenderness for which I long tonight.
Belle Eugenia Smith
forgiveness