Patrick Regan has kindly shared the material from his George Heath site with readers of the Victorian Web, who may wish to consult the original.
When twilight walks the earth with dewy feet,
It steals from memory, haunted long-ago,
That sweet, sad passion-dream I cherished so;
A form with every charm and grace replete,
A tinkling fall of fairy footsteps fleet,
A radiant face, with dimpling smiles aglow,
A voice like rippling streamlet's murmuring flow,
Low words of hope, and love intensely sweet,
A whispered interchange of vows, one kiss,
A crashing blow, of all our hopes the knell.
One brief half-hour of anguish-haunted bliss,
One wild embrace, a long, a last farewell,
Darts like a vision through my brain, and then
My widowed soul grows calm and sad again.
Last modified 4 September 2002