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AT THE BREACH.
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Saying, " Our Father, who art, —
Art what ? " so she stayed with a start.
" In Heaven," your mother said softly.
And Susie sighed " So far away ! " —
'Tis nearer, Will, now to us all.
It is strange how that fellow sleeps ! stranger still that his sleep should haunt me ;
If I could but command his face, to make sure of the lesser ill :
I will crawl to his side and see, for what should there be there to daunt me ?
What there ? what there ! Holy Father in Heaven, not Will !
Will, dead Will !
Lying here, and I could not feel you !
Will, brave Will !
Oh, alas, for the noble end !
Will, dear Will !
Since no love nor remorse could heal you,
Will, good Will !
Let me die on your breast, old friend !
