90
TO-MORROW.
We tremble as we feel you start,
So dimly glittering toward our eyes,
For this dark drama, this fierce part,
Where coffins, blood, and tearful cries
Must pass you in your pageantries.
So dimly glittering toward our eyes,
For this dark drama, this fierce part,
Where coffins, blood, and tearful cries
Must pass you in your pageantries.
Ah! lovely in that painted scene,
There where false water quivers bright,
There where false-fruited trees are green,
Far from the sharp dawn's dreary light,
Stay, dear illusion of To-night!
There where false water quivers bright,
There where false-fruited trees are green,
Far from the sharp dawn's dreary light,
Stay, dear illusion of To-night!