THE FOREST BOY.
69
The clock in her cottage now mournfully told
The hours that went heavily on;
'Twas midnight; her spirits sank hopeless and cold,
For the wind seem'd to say as in loud gusts it roll'd
That long, long would her William be gone.
Then heart-sick and faint to her sad bed she crept,
Yet first made up the fire in the room
To guide his dark steps; but she listen'd and wept,
Or if for a moment forgetful she slept,
Soon she started!—and thought he was come.
