Page:The Poetical Works of William Motherwell, 1849.djvu/278

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194

I'll not complain,
Since underneath thy balmy breath
I may remain
One brief hour more ere I seek death
On battle plain!
Mute, lady, mute!

Sleep, lady, sleep!
While watch I keep
Till dawn of day:
But o'er the wold now morning cold
Shines icy grey;
While the plain gleams with steel and gold,
And chargers neigh I
Sleep, lady, sleep!

Sleep, lady, sleep!
Nor wake to weep
For heart-struck me:
These trumpets knell my last farewell
To love and thee!
When next they sound, 'twill be to tell
I died for thee!
Sleep, lady, sleep!