In the breathing-time of Death,
While the sword is in its sheath,
While the cannon's mouth is dumb,
Soldier, rest awhile at home.
Not too long the rest shall be.
Soon enough, to Death and thee,
The assembly call shall come.
Soldier, rest awhile at home.
ONE TEAR
Last night, when at parting
Awhile we did stand,
Suddenly starting,
There fell on my hand
Something that burned it,
Something that shone
In the moon as I turned it,
And then it was gone.
One bright stray jewel -
What made it stray?
Was I cold or cruel,
At the close of day?
Oh, do not cry, lass!
What is crying worth?
There is no lass like my lass
In the whole wide earth.
A LOVER'S CONFESSION
When people tell me they have loved
But once in youth,
I wonder, are they always moved
To speak the truth?
Not that they wilfully deceive:
They fondly cherish
A constancy which they would grieve
To think might perish.
They cherish it until they think
`Twas always theirs.
So, if the truth they sometimes blink,
`Tis unawares.
Yet unawares, I must profess,
They do deceive
Themselves, and those who questionless
Their tale believe.
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