O SWEET blue eyes, and hair of gold
That tosses in the wind's light breath!
O red lips! - But her hands are cold -
What light shall be when I am old,
If darkens now the shadow of death?
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The thing I dread, thou dost not see;
No voice to thee a message saith
That thro' all bitter years to be
Too harshly must come home to me
When I behold the shadow of death.
O sweet soul, must it be in vain,
The prayer of agony love saith?
My heart is full of useless pain;
They never see the light again,
Who once have seen the shadow of death.
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Dr. Sargent on Boxing.
