Robert Seymour Bridges

Shorter Poems. Book III. 10. “My Bed and Pillow Are Cold”

      My bed and pillow are cold,
    My heart is faint with dread,
    The air hath an odour of mould,
    I dream I lie with the dead:
          I cannot move,
          O come to me, love,
          Or else I am dead.

    The feet I hear on the floor
    Tread heavily overhead:
    O Love, come down to the door,
    Come, Love, come, ere I be dead:
          Make shine thy light,
          O Love, in the night;
          Or else I am dead.