By Olive Custance
Pierrot .... Pierrot .... at first they said you slept,
And then they told me you would never wake ....
I dared not think .... I watched the white day break,
The yellow lamps go out .... I have not wept.
But now I kiss your dear cold hands and weep ;
Shaken with sobs I cower beside the bed . . . .
At last I realise that you are dead ....
Drawn suddenly into the arms of sleep. . . .
Love ! . . . you will never look at me again
With those rain-coloured, heavy-lidded eyes,
Closed now for ever .... Pierrot, was it wise
To love so madly since we loved in vain ?
In vain ! in vain ! . . . but Pierrot, it was sweet
To stem the stealthy hours with wine and song ! . . .
Though death stood up between us stern and strong,
And fate twined nets to trip our dancing feet ....
The Yellow Book—Vol. XIII. h .... Too
Pierrot .... Pierrot .... at first they said you slept,
And then they told me you would never wake ....
I dared not think .... I watched the white day break,
The yellow lamps go out .... I have not wept.
But now I kiss your dear cold hands and weep ;
Shaken with sobs I cower beside the bed . . . .
At last I realise that you are dead ....
Drawn suddenly into the arms of sleep. . . .
Love ! . . . you will never look at me again
With those rain-coloured, heavy-lidded eyes,
Closed now for ever .... Pierrot, was it wise
To love so madly since we loved in vain ?
In vain ! in vain ! . . . but Pierrot, it was sweet
To stem the stealthy hours with wine and song ! . . .
Though death stood up between us stern and strong,
And fate twined nets to trip our dancing feet ....
The Yellow Book—Vol. XIII. h .... Too