Songs, Merry and Sad by John Charles McNeill
page 56 of 71 (78%)
page 56 of 71 (78%)
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The Wife
They locked him in a prison cell, Murky and mean. She kissed him there a wife's farewell The bars between. And when she turned to go, the crowd, Thinking to see her shamed and bowed, Saw her pass out as calm and proud As any queen. She passed a kinsman on the street, To whose sad eyes She made reply with smile as sweet As April skies. To one who loved her once and knew The sorrow of her life, she threw A gay word, ere his tale was due Of sympathies. She met a playmate, whose red rose Had never a thorn, Whom fortune guided when she chose Her marriage morn, And, smiling, looked her in the eye; But, seeing the tears of sympathy, Her smile died, and she passed on by In quiet scorn. |
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