 | The Complete Works of James Whitcomb Riley |  |
479
LAST WORDS
He left me for a foreign land:
I could not even free
One little tear to gem the hand
That God had given me;
For “I will follow soon, my dear,”
I laughed with girlish air,—
“The sun that cheers our pathway here
Shall beam upon us there!”
I could not even free
One little tear to gem the hand
That God had given me;
For “I will follow soon, my dear,”
I laughed with girlish air,—
“The sun that cheers our pathway here
Shall beam upon us there!”
And so we parted. ... Listen, God!—
I may not even free
One little tear to dew the sod
Where, sleeping peacefully,
He waits in foreign lands—my dear!
But prophecy and prayer,—
“The sun that cheers our pathway here
Shall beam upon us—there!”
I may not even free
One little tear to dew the sod
Where, sleeping peacefully,
He waits in foreign lands—my dear!
But prophecy and prayer,—
“The sun that cheers our pathway here
Shall beam upon us—there!”
| The Complete Works of James Whitcomb Riley | |