|Tho' poor companions they might be|
they are all we have to hold.
For now, longing and this need
are our companions, big and bold.
Tho' distance stands between our love,
our feelings hold us ever near,
and your being fits me like a glove.
Lacking you, I hold thoughts dear
of moments spent electrified...
yet soft and warm they were, the same,
and parting turned our heads, we cried,
in anguish each others loving names.
To see you, to hold you,'tis what keeps me holding on,
'til our poor companions strength is bending,
and our distance is all gone.