BARBARA.
Oh, that pallid face!
Those sweet, earnest eyes of grace!
When last I saw them, dearest, ’twas in another place;
You came running forth to meet me, with my love-gift on your wrist,
And a cursed river killed thee, aided by a murderous mist.
Oh, a purple mark of agony was on the mouth I kissed
When last I saw thee, Barbara!
Alexander Smith.
