My Darling.
45
My darling laughed in the dawning,
Lifers hand on her sunny hair.
My darling slept in the dawning,
Then came to my heart a fear;
For peace may be lost in the darkness.
And joy be drowned in a tear.
I whispered : ‘Sleep in the singing,
When the buds are breaking to bloom.
Each branch with its load low-swinging,
Each flower with its faint perfume;
When the world is young with laughter,
Mankind on his throne a king.
When the soul sings of a Hereafter,
And is not ashamed to sing.’
Then Life faded into her shadow.
And Death took her form and was fair.
My darling smiled in her sleeping,
Death's hand on her sunny hair.
