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1868–1947

The Widower's Lullaby.

Alan Sullivan

Dost remember, dear one, floating On a moonlit silver sea; Stars above us, depths beneath us, Shadows covering you and me?

Ever drifting, spellbound, silent, Down a shimmering track of light; While around the gloom was throbbing With the mystery of night.

Mute our lips; what need of speaking? But our heart chords were as tense As a bowstring stretched to breaking: Every look was eloquence.

Till my soul had burst its barriers, And I told you my desire; Told of love, undying passion, Strong as ocean, pure as fire.

You nor moved, nor sighed, nor answered, Pale your cheek was as your dress, But the golden lashes drooping Gave response, and it was “Yes.”

That was five long years ago, dear, Can you hear me as I speak? For again I see the lashes Falling on a pallid cheek.

Still, and ah! so silent sleeping, Motionless you take your rest; I've your pledge of love beside me, And your image in my breast.

Just one golden head you gave me, Little one with eyes of blue; See, she nestles to my shoulder: Darling, can you see us two?

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The Widower's Lullaby. · Alan Sullivan · Poetry Cove