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Updated: May 2, 2025
The last words I heard from her, in her anxious care for me, were a whispered: "Will you call me!" and once more when her voice had grown toneless her lips formed the word: "Call!" Then the blossom withered, and fell. But the mighty stem had grown richer through the beautiful bloom of her love-breathing life. After Elsje's death I had no more peace in the new country.
I who so lately knew of nought but the joy of life; who had slept only to dream sweet dreams and awoke to incomparable happiness, I now passed my days and nights in tears. I who sought and had found joy in the love-breathing countenance of my father now when I dared fix on him a supplicating look it was ever answered by an angry frown.
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