 | 'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition |  |
POOR HEART.
Another string is gone, another tie
That bound me to these pleasant fields of flowers,
Snapt in mid music of the sweetest hours,
And I have nothing left me but to die;
That bound me to these pleasant fields of flowers,
Snapt in mid music of the sweetest hours,
And I have nothing left me but to die;
To lay me down, where my beloved ones lie
Calm in the cradling of their sacred bowers,
Caressed by sunshine, kissed by tender showers,
And let this world of falsehood all go by.
Calm in the cradling of their sacred bowers,
Caressed by sunshine, kissed by tender showers,
And let this world of falsehood all go by.
No string remains to link us, O poor heart,
Yet longer to the earth whereon we stay,
For all have past the same sad silent way;
Yet longer to the earth whereon we stay,
For all have past the same sad silent way;
And thou hast lost the old unconscious art,
Which made each beauteous thing around, a part
Of melodies that deep in thee held sway.
Which made each beauteous thing around, a part
Of melodies that deep in thee held sway.
| 'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition | |