200
AT DAWN
Dear hearts! dear hearts! It must still be so!
The roses will bloom, and the stars will shine,
And the soft green grass creep still and slow,
Sometime over a grave of mine—
The roses will bloom, and the stars will shine,
And the soft green grass creep still and slow,
Sometime over a grave of mine—
And over the grave in your hearts as well!
Ye cannot hinder it if ye would;
And I—ah! I shall be wiser then—
I would not hinder it if I could!
Ye cannot hinder it if ye would;
And I—ah! I shall be wiser then—
I would not hinder it if I could!
