AT LAST.
51
The silent skipper, morn by morn, if he
Will sail before the night.
With patient treadI bear him all my goods. I cannot see
What more is left that could be stripped from me,
But still the silent skipper shakes his head:
Ah me! I think I never shall be dead!
Will sail before the night.
With patient treadI bear him all my goods. I cannot see
What more is left that could be stripped from me,
But still the silent skipper shakes his head:
Ah me! I think I never shall be dead!
AT LAST.
THE years I lost before I knew you,
Love!
O, the hills I climbed and came not to you,
Love!
Ah! who shall render unto us to make
Us glad,
The things which for and of each other's sake
We might have had?
Love!
O, the hills I climbed and came not to you,
Love!
Ah! who shall render unto us to make
Us glad,
The things which for and of each other's sake
We might have had?
If you and I had sat and played together,
Love,
Two speechless babies in the summer weather,
Love,
By one sweet brook which, though it dried up long
Ago,
Still makes for me to-day a sweeter song
Than all I know,—
Love,
Two speechless babies in the summer weather,
Love,
By one sweet brook which, though it dried up long
Ago,
Still makes for me to-day a sweeter song
Than all I know,—
If hand in hand through the mysterious gateway,
Love,
Of womanhood, we had first looked and straightway,
Love,
Love,
Of womanhood, we had first looked and straightway,
Love,