Through the swift night
I go to my love.
Tram bells are joy bells,
Bidding us move
I count the days until I see you, dear,
But the days only.
I dare not reckon up the nights and hours
When Gertie came in
To work today
She was much less weary
And far more gay.
When I go into town at half past seven
Great crowds of people stream across the ways,
Hurrying, although it's only half past seven.
I in the library,
Looking for books to read,
Pulled one out twice to see
If it fulfilled my need.
The people have drunk the wine of peace
In the streets of town.
They smile as they drift with hearts at rest
Uphill and down.
I've had no man
To guard and shelter me,
Guide and instruct me
From mine infancy.
There's a little boy who lives next door
With hair like you,
Pale, pale hair and a rose-white skin
They are so glad of a young companion,
They hail and bless me, these boys of mine,
And I whose pathway was dark and lonely