I MISS THY LIGHT STEP DEAREST.
195
HIS NAME HAS GONE DOWN.
His name has gone clown to the dead abyss
Where infamy hides her head;
Ah! who could have dreamed that an end like this,
Would shadow his dying bed?
Where infamy hides her head;
Ah! who could have dreamed that an end like this,
Would shadow his dying bed?
From the silent depths of a midnight sky
When the thunder-storm was o'er,
He flashed like a meteor before the eye,
And passed, to be seen no more.
When the thunder-storm was o'er,
He flashed like a meteor before the eye,
And passed, to be seen no more.
I MISS THY LIGHT STEP, DEAREST.
I miss thy light step, dearest, I miss thy beaming brow,
I miss the music of thy voice, for thou art silent now;
The step is still, the brow is cold, the voice no longer heard,
Whose echoes fell upon my ear like songs of woodland bird!
I miss the music of thy voice, for thou art silent now;
The step is still, the brow is cold, the voice no longer heard,
Whose echoes fell upon my ear like songs of woodland bird!
The willow leans above thee to wonder and to weep,
The violet droops above thy grave, but cannot break thy sleep.
The violet droops above thy grave, but cannot break thy sleep.
