DOLLY.
We were schoolfellows, Dolly and I,
At a little dame-school in the town close by;
I carried her books, and she held my hand—
Two innocent children of God’s own band.
We would marry when we grew up, we said.
Grave plans for the time to come we laid—
A small boy I, and a wee girl she,
In those bygone days—ah me! ah me!
We grew—we were married—Dolly and I,
At the quaint old church in the town close by;
The farm was purchased, the fees were paid—
‘What a blithe young couple!’ the neighbours said.
And so we were, till the winds blew bleak,
And chilled the roses on Dolly’s cheek.
Like the waning tide of a waveless sea,
Her life ebbed gently—ah me! ah me!
If you want to know why I ofttimes sigh,
You must come with me to the town close by;
You must see the church where our vows were said,
And the mound that covers the restful dead.
For my love is sleeping the quiet sleep
That the Shepherd gives to His wearied sheep—
And the world is not what it used to be,
Ere its sunlight faded for her and me.
Nannie Power O’Donoghue.
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