294
WIDOWED.
"I can almost see the boatman Plying now between the shores;I can hear the wimpling water And the plashing of the oars.I must leave our little children,— Leave you, O my precious wife!I can feel the slow, sad breaking Of the dearest ties of life."
But I fondly thought to hold you With a love so strong and trueThat the links it cast about you Even Fate could not undo;—Thought to keep your sun from setting Even when the twilight fell,And the night of death was stealing On your pathway like a spell.
Though the tide of life was failing, Failing in your bosom fast,Yet a hope and strength upheld me, Madly human to the last.And a sudden chilling darkness Wrapped the sad September day,
