Page:Margaret and the minister (1).pdf/8

8 Rest warrior rest.

He comes from the wars, from the red field of fight He comes through the storm and darkness of night For rest and for refuge now fain to implore, The warrior bends low at the cottagers door. Pale pale is his cheek there's a gash on his brow His locks oer his shoulders distractedly flow, And the fire of his heart shoots by fits from his eye Like a languishing lamp that just flashes to die. Rest warrior rest,—rest wariorwarrior [sic] rest

Sunk in silence and sleep on the cottagers bed Oblivion shall visit the war weary head; Perhaps he may dream but the vision shall tell, If his ladys love bower, and her latest farewell, lllusson and love chase the battle’s alarms, (arms;) He shall dream that his mistress lies locked in his He shall feel on his lips the sweet warmth of her Kiss Oh, warrior wake not such slumber is bliss, Rest warrior rest,—rest warrior rest