WE kissed good-bye in the gloaming Ere the moon crept up the sky; "When, love, will you be homing?" She cried, with a teary eye; "When will you cease from roaming The breast of the barren sea, And come to another breast for rest, -- To the longing heart o' me?" @3Then I said to her, low and slow, -- "Oh, it's ever the lad must go, And it's ever the lass must stay, And that is the tale of the world-old woe Till the trump of the judgment-day!"@1 Still I hear her voice enthralling, And I see her standing there, With the night's deep shadows falling On the dawn-break of her hair. And ever her calling, calling, Floats over the southern sea, -- "Come back to my aching breast with rest For the longing heart o' me!" @3But I cry to her, low and slow, -- "Oh, it's ever the lad must go, And it's ever the lass must stay, And that is the tale of world-old woe Till the trump of the judgment-day!"@1 | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE PRICE OF WOMEN by KAREN SWENSON THE BONNIE BLUE FLAG by ANNIE CHAMBERS KETCHUM THE RUBAIYAT, 1879 EDITION: 23 by OMAR KHAYYAM ETUDE REALISTE by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE MAXIMS FOR THE OLD HOUSE: THE THRESHOLD by ANNA HEMPSTEAD BRANCH |