Arthur Quiller-Couch, comp. The Oxford Book of Victorian Verse. 1922.
LamentEdward Walsh (1805–1850)
W
Suppose I am sleeping,
On the cold sod that ’s o’er you
The lone watch I’m keeping.
My fondest! my fairest!
We may now sleep together!
I’ve the cold earth’s damp odour,
And I’m worn from the weather.
I last spent with you, Love,
Beneath the dark sloe-tree
When the icy wind blew, Love.
High praise to thy Saviour
No sin-stain had found you,
That your virginal glory
Shines brightly around you!
Are ceaselessly chiding
That I love a young maiden
In life not abiding.
O! I’d shelter and shield you
If wild storms were swelling—
And O, my wreck’d hope,
That the cold earth ’s your dwelling!