Page:Poems - Bryant (1854).djvu/345

This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
THE MAIDEN'S SORROW.
343
Soon wilt thou wipe my tears awayAll my task upon earth is done; My poor father, old and gray, Slumbers beneath the churchyard stone.
In the dreams of my lonely bed, Ever thy form before me seems; All night long I talk with the dead, All day long I think of my dreams.
This deep wound that bleeds and aches,This long pain, a sleepless pain—When the Father my spirit takes, I shall feel it no more again.
This article is issued from Wikisource. The text is available under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 unless otherwise noted. Additional terms may apply for the media files.