Page:Thirty poems (IA thirtypoems00bryarich).pdf/61
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A SICK-BED.
Long hast thou watched my bed,
And smoothed the pillow oft
For this poor, aching head,
With touches kind and soft.
And smoothed the pillow oft
For this poor, aching head,
With touches kind and soft.
Oh! smooth it yet again,
As softly as before;
Once—only once—and then
I need thy hand no more.
As softly as before;
Once—only once—and then
I need thy hand no more.
Yet here I may not stay,
Where I so long have lain,
Where I so long have lain,