The Witch’s Head


Rider Haggard

Swell out, sad harmonies,
From the slow cadence of the gathering years;
For Life is bitter-sweet, yet bounds the flood
Of human fears
A death-crowned queen, from her hid throne she scatters
Smiles and tears

Until Time turn aside,
And we slip past him towards the wide increase
Of all things beautiful, then finding there
Our rest and peace;
The mournful strain is ended. Sorrow and song
Together cease.

A. M. Barber.


Back    |    Words Home    |    Rider Haggard Home    |    Site Info.    |    Feedback