To The Dead Poem by William Bell Scott

To The Dead



(A PARAPHRASE.)

Gone art thou? gone, and is the light of day
Still shining, is my hair not touched with grey?
But evening draweth nigh, I pass the door,
And see thee walking on the dim-lit shore.
Gone, art thou? gone, and weary on the brink
Of Lethe waiting there. O do not drink,
Drink not, forget not, wait a little while,
I shall be with thee; we again may smile.

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