Page:The Poetical Works of William Motherwell, 1849.djvu/278

 I'll not complain, Since underneath thy balmy breath I may remain One brief hour more ere I seek death On battle plain! Mute, lady, mute!

Sleep, lady, sleep! While watch I keep Till dawn of day: But o'er the wold now morning cold Shines icy grey; While the plain gleams with steel and gold, And chargers neigh I Sleep, lady, sleep!

Sleep, lady, sleep! Nor wake to weep For heart-struck me: These trumpets knell my last farewell To love and thee! When next they sound, 'twill be to tell I died for thee! Sleep, lady, sleep!