John Bannister Tabb

 Next Poem          

And dost thou lead him hence with thee
O setting sun,
And leave the shadows all to me
When he is gone?
Ah, if my grief his guerdon be,
My dark his light,
I count each loss felicity,
And bless the night.

Next Poem 

 Back to John Bannister Tabb

To be able to leave a comment here you must be registered. Log in or Sign up.