WESTWARD HO!.
205
WESTWARD HO!
E should not sit us down and sigh,My girl, whose brow a fane appears,
Whose steadfast eyes look royally
Backwards and forwards o'er the years—
The long, long years of conquered time,
The possible years unwon, that slope
Before us in the pale sublime
Of lives that have more faith than hope.
The possible years unwon, that slope
Before us in the pale sublime
Of lives that have more faith than hope.
We dare not sit us down and dream
Fond dreams, as idle children do:
My forehead owns too many a seam,
And tears have worn their channels through
Fond dreams, as idle children do:
My forehead owns too many a seam,
And tears have worn their channels through
Your poor thin cheeks, which now I take
'Twixt my two hands, caressing. Dear,
A little sunshine for my sake!
Although we 're far on in the year.
'Twixt my two hands, caressing. Dear,
A little sunshine for my sake!
Although we 're far on in the year.
Though all our violets, sweet! are dead,
The primrose lost from fields we knew,
Who knows what harvests may be spread
For reapers brave like me and you?
The primrose lost from fields we knew,
Who knows what harvests may be spread
For reapers brave like me and you?
