There is a river dark and still,
Behind a house, atop a hill.
There in it's depths my lover lies
And nightly I can hear her cries.
It's banks are bare, no flowers grow;
They died with her so long ago.
My spirit too, and still I weep
And pray for my eternal sleep.
On moonlit nights my love appears
And by the light I see her tears.
She waits there by the river's edge
For me to yet fulfill my pledge.
It was upon our wedding's eve
We argued, and for this I grieve
For angrily I struck the blow
That sent her to her death below.
This very night, at last her hand
Will wear the longed-for wedding band,
For I will keep the pledge I gave
And join her in the watery grave.
On moonlit nights we'll walk with pride,
A ghostly groom and ghostly bride,
Along that river dark and still,
Behind my house, atop the hill.
Comments about this poem (The River by Herman Sequira )
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