Poem by Francis William Bourdillon

The Heart Cry

She turned the page of wounds and death
With trembling fingers. In a breath
The gladness of her life became
Naught but a memory and a name.

Farewell! Farewell! I might not share
The perils it was yours to dare.
Dauntless you fronted death: for me
Rests to face life as fearlessly.

1. Sonnet (Oft had I felt, like pure Endymion)
2. On the South Downs
3. Christmas Roses
4. A Spring Evening
5. The Regions of Love

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