 | A collection of poems by Ernest Radford |  |
29
A LONDON IDYLL.
A toiler here in London,
Her brave face nothing shows;
The head at work, the hand at work,
The heartache comes and goes.
Her brave face nothing shows;
The head at work, the hand at work,
The heartache comes and goes.
The day's work done, the respite won,
The word for all is Rest;
Oh, where so safe the token
Of love as on her breast?
The word for all is Rest;
Oh, where so safe the token
Of love as on her breast?
Let rest until the Morrow
Its keeper, quit of care;
The face that has its setting
In coils of silken hair;
The bosom rising, falling—
Its secret hidden there.
Its keeper, quit of care;
The face that has its setting
In coils of silken hair;
The bosom rising, falling—
Its secret hidden there.
| A collection of poems by Ernest Radford | |