Little he dreamed of this dreary Now,
Or that ever he should stand
With the pistol-muzzle at her brow,
The trigger in his hand!
They kissed—they clung in a last embrace,
They prayed a last deep prayer—
Then proudly she raised her tearful face,
And——a corse lay shuddering there!
He stooped, his love's soft eyes to close,
He smoothed the bright brown hair,