a ballad.
103
For if we are sullen and sad to-day
We too may be dead to-morrow!
We too may be dead to-morrow!
"Oh I lov'd my lord while beauty and life
In charms array'd his form,
But 'tis vain with the grave to hold my strife,
Or rival the loathsome worn!"
In charms array'd his form,
But 'tis vain with the grave to hold my strife,
Or rival the loathsome worn!"
Now wise I ween was that Lady's mind,
Her moonlight watch for leaving;
For love is a dream, and sighs they are wind—
What e'er was gain'd by grieving?
Her moonlight watch for leaving;
For love is a dream, and sighs they are wind—
What e'er was gain'd by grieving?
Then Lady away to the midnight ball!
Waste no more time in weeping,
For the vapours float and the dews they fall,
Thy husband's pillow steeping.
Waste no more time in weeping,
For the vapours float and the dews they fall,
Thy husband's pillow steeping.
