THE NIGHT-WALK. 



Alone ! alone, we were alone, 



None others could you see ; 



Alone upon a wild wide heath, 



A dying man with me. 



* * * * * 



Two dreary miles, two dreary miles, 



As yet we had but come ; 

 And four more we must traverse o'er 



Before we reach his home. 



" And dost thou think, thou dying man, 



With eyes so ghastly wild, 

 That thou shalt see thy waiting wife, 



Or kiss thy list'ning child ? 



" Ah, no ! ah, no ! thou dying man, 



Death's near it cannot be ; 

 Thou shalt not kiss thy listening child, 



Nor yet thy dear wife see. 



" Thy mother in yon village lives, 



That from us yet doth lie 

 A dreary mile ; she knoweth not 



Thou'rt coming there to die." 



Tramp, tramp, on, on, away w r ent we 



Thro' fern and piercing gorse ; 

 We crush'd the broom beneath our feet, 



And trampled deep the moss. 



" Cheer up," said I, " and cross this stile ; " 

 Said he, " I'm short of breath :" 



We paus'd I held him in my arms, 

 He seem'd to conquer death. 



We left that heath o'er which at morn 



We had so blithely stray'd : 

 But where were now the sun and flowers, 



And fish that gladly play'd ? 



And where were those sweet-singing birds ? 



Alas ! they all had gone 

 To slumber on the leafy boughs: 



Alone we journeyed on. 



And does thy wife yet wait on thee ? 



Alas, thou canst not come ! 

 Thy child asks where thou art in vain ? 



Thou canst not reach thy home. 



And o'er that stile I lifted him, 



There was no help at hand, 

 And bore him on far up that lane, 



Ah, me ! he could not stand. 



" I feel a thirst, there is a brook, 



I see it shining clear ;" 

 It was the rain shone on the grass, 



Alas ! no brook was there. 



