Page:The city of dreadful night - and other poems (IA cityofdreadfulni00thomrich).pdf/189

 The sparkling and glittering morning dew, And the people are joyous wherever I view: Yet would were I in the grave at rest Folded close to my lost Love's breast.

upon her picture, Absorbed in dreams of gloom, Till those beloved features Began to breathe and bloom.

About her lips came wreathing That sweet, sweet smile I knew; The eyes were softly gleaming With tears as fresh as dew.

And my tears sprang then also, The dark cloud's rain was shed: And, O my Love, I cannot Believe that thou art dead!

standeth lonely In the North on an upland bare; It standeth whitely shrouded With snow, and sleepeth there: