A little book of tribune verse A number of hitherto uncollected poems, grave and gay |
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THE TWO SLEEPERS. |
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THE TWO SLEEPERS.
I know two sleepers, one is there
In yonder house on yonder street,
She is my lady, fine and fair,
And she is lost in slumber sweet;
In dreams she dreams perhaps of me,
This sleeper whom I love so well,
And wonder where her love may be,
Sweet dream! I pri' thee do not tell!
In yonder house on yonder street,
She is my lady, fine and fair,
And she is lost in slumber sweet;
In dreams she dreams perhaps of me,
This sleeper whom I love so well,
And wonder where her love may be,
Sweet dream! I pri' thee do not tell!
The other sleeper is at rest,
Near yonder chair upon the floor,
White is its smooth and pulseless breast,
It represents six bits or more.
By whom 'twas dropped, I cannot say,
But, lest its owner woo it back,
Please, partner, kick it round this way,
That I may nip it for my stack.
Near yonder chair upon the floor,
White is its smooth and pulseless breast,
It represents six bits or more.
By whom 'twas dropped, I cannot say,
But, lest its owner woo it back,
Please, partner, kick it round this way,
That I may nip it for my stack.
May 21st, 1883.
| A little book of tribune verse | |