Poems (Clark)/A Triolet
"Then yonder must I speed,The bleacher in his need Is asking help of me;My shining drops must aidTill his cloth white is made; Much work have I, you see.
"Good-bye, my child, good-bye;No more I pause, but I Must hasten on my way.My journey long will be,Till I the ocean see; With you I must not stay."
A TRIOLET
'Tis a cold, windy night,But the stars are all out;They are many and bright,—'Tis a cold, windy night.Each clear, sparkling lightBids my heart banish doubt;'Tis a cold, windy night,But the stars are all out.