 | Poems by William Wetmore Story |  |
234
TWO PARTINGS.
I.
The breath of the wild briar rose makes sweet
The twilight air along the dewy lane,—
Soft yields the greensward to our lingering feet,
And thou art with me, dearest, once again.
The twilight air along the dewy lane,—
Soft yields the greensward to our lingering feet,
And thou art with me, dearest, once again.
There cling the rooks, slow-dropping from the spire
That pierces through the sky's dim silvery light,—
And through the thick trees burns with orange fire
The low flat moon o'er yonder sloping height.
That pierces through the sky's dim silvery light,—
And through the thick trees burns with orange fire
The low flat moon o'er yonder sloping height.
Hark! was not that the sound of running feet?
They must not find us here alone, and thus!
One long last kiss, dear love! we yet shall meet
Somehow,—God knows,—and will take care of us.
They must not find us here alone, and thus!
One long last kiss, dear love! we yet shall meet
Somehow,—God knows,—and will take care of us.
II.
What shadow flickers on the curtain there?
I knew, beloved, thou wouldst come at last!
Ah death! its weight is all too much to bear
Now thou art come—and all the past is past.
I knew, beloved, thou wouldst come at last!
Ah death! its weight is all too much to bear
Now thou art come—and all the past is past.
235
Look in my eyes! oh! there 's so much to say,
How shall I lift its load from off my heart?
My head 's so weak—my strength all flows away
And there 's so little time before we part.
How shall I lift its load from off my heart?
My head 's so weak—my strength all flows away
And there 's so little time before we part.
I see you once again!—'T is not a dream!
Yet all 's so dim—oh stay beside me—stay!
Throw your arms round me—catch me—for I seem
To lose you, love,—and all things fade away.
Yet all 's so dim—oh stay beside me—stay!
Throw your arms round me—catch me—for I seem
To lose you, love,—and all things fade away.
| Poems by William Wetmore Story | |