THE FRIEND

Through the dark wood

There came to me a friend,

Bringing in his cold hands

Two words--'The End.'

His face was fair

As fading autumn flowers,

And the lost joy

Of unforgotten hours.

His voice was sweet

As rain upon a grave;

'Be brave,' he smiled.

And yet again--'be brave.'

The Lonely Dancer and Other Poems · 第 44 / 73 题