Page:Over the river, and other poems.djvu/76

70 No matter what of hope or light The weary day might miss, I never close my eyes at night Without thy good-night kiss. Forever in that quiet grave (Albeit they say the dead Know nothing of the busy world That whirls above their head), I think my sleep would be less deep If any but thine own Were the last earthly touch I felt Ere I was left alone. Kiss me, but do not. weep, beloved! Nay, rather bless our God That made so bright the little time That we together trod;