Tomorrow, at dawn | A poem by Victor Hugo, 1847

Auguste de Châtillon, Portrait of Léopoldine Hugo,1836

“At dawn tomorrow, when the plains grow bright,
I’ll go. You wait for me: I know you do.
I’ll cross the woods, I’ll cross the mountain-height.
No longer can I keep away from you.

I’ll walk with eyes fixed on my inner thought,
Not seeing what’s outside, nor hearing sound,
Alone, unknown, hands crossed, and shoulders fraught
With sadness; day and night will be as one.

I shall not see the gold of falling eve,
Nor distant sails that down to Harfleur steer;
And on your grave, at last, I shall leave
Green holly and the heather’s flowering gear.”

Victor Hugo, Tomorrow, at dawn, 1847
tr. E. H. Blackmore, A. M. Blackmore

The poem refers to the profound grief of Victor Hugo following the tragic death of his daughter, Léopoldine.
In September 1843, 19-year-old Léopoldine drowned in the Seine River when her boat overturned; her husband also died trying to save her. Hugo famously learned of her death from a newspaper while traveling.

Also:
Painters [*/ ) Drawings | Victor Hugo,1837 -71
On [:] Spring | Victor Hugo, 1862