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Good-night! my darling sleeps so sound She cannot hear me where she lies; White lilies watch the closed eyes, Red roses guard the folded hands. Good-night! O woman who once lay Upon my breast, so still, so sweet That all my pulses, throbbing, beat And flamed -- I cannot touch you now. Good-night, my own! God knows we loved So well, that all things else seemed slight -- We part forever in the night, We two poor souls who loved so well. Mary Gilmore |
