Poems and Songs


Henry Kendall

THE SUNSETS fall and the sunsets fade,
    But still I walk this shadowy land;
And grapple the dark and only the dark
    In my search for a loving hand.

For it’s here a still, deep woodland lies,
    With spurs of pine and sheaves of fern;
But I wander wild, and wail like a child
    For a face that will never return!

And it’s here a mighty water flows,
    With drifts of wind and wimpled waves;
But the darling head of a dear one dead
    Is hidden beneath its caves.

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