Page:Poems - Tennyson (1843) - Volume 1 of 2.djvu/177

 I have been wild and wayward, but you'll forgive me now; You'll kiss me, my own mother, upon my cheek and brow; Nay, nay, you must not weep, nor let your grief be wild, You should not fret for me, mother, you have another child.

If I can I'll come again, mother, from out my resting-place; Though you'll not see me, mother, I shall look upon your face; Though I cannot speak a word, I shall harken what you say, And be often, often with you when you think I'm far away.

Goodnight, goodnight, when I have said goodnight for evermore, And you see me carried out from the threshold of the door; Don't let Effie come to see me till my grave be growing green: She'll be a better child to you than ever I have been.