Elizabeth Akers Allen (1832–1911)

THE SUNSET fades along the shore,

And faints behind yon rosy reach of sea.

Night falls again, but oh, no more,

No more, no more,

My love returns to me.

The lonely moon builds soft and slow

Her silver bridge across the main,

But him who sleeps the wave below

Love waits in vain,

Ah no, ah no,

He never comes again!

But while some night beside the sea

I watch, when sunset’s red has ceased to burn,

That silver path, and sigh, ‘Ah me,

Ah me, ah me,

He never will return!’

If on that bridge of rippling light,

His homeward feet should find their way,

I should not wonder at the sight,

But only say:

‘Ah love, my love,

I knew you would not stay!’