The Battle
BLACK clouds hung low and heavy,
Above the sunset glare;
And in the garden dimly
We wandered here and there.
So full of strife, of trouble
The night was dark, afraid,
Like our own love, so merely
For tears and sighings made.
That when it came to parting,
And I must mount and go,
With all my soul I wished it—
That God would lay me low.
Other works by Madison Cawein...
To the Memory of George H. Ellwanger True Friend and Lover and Interpreter of Nature, as a Slight Token of Esteem and Admiration
Would I could talk as the flowers… To my soul! and the stars, in thei… Through Heaven! and tell to the h… The things that they say, so all m… The dreams they dream, and have to…
