ALONE, in the waning light,
Alone, in the darkening night,
Sits she, silent and forlorn,
Still patient, tho' overworn,
Watching for the face that she
Is nevermore to see.
In the dull dusk, fire-lit,
Wherethro' wan shadows flit,
That fill her heart and brain
With a ghostly sense of pain,
She lists for a footfall near
That she nevermore will hear.
In the crumbling tower of flame
She reads the beloved name,
That ne'er from her lips again
Will greet his ears, as when,
From the thickening outer gloom,
He enter'd the twilight room.
For tho' she wait till death
Steals, as air steals smoke, her breath,
The waited shall never come;
The dead lips are ever dumb
To answer her earnest prayers,
Or whisper away her cares.
O hearts, whom hope hath mockt
Through fate's dark windows lockt,
Surely the lost ye weep
Shall not for ever sleep
Thro' the wide-forgetting years,
Tho' they wake not at your tears!
ED.
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Tug-of-War Team.
