Love's Truce

Philip Bourke Marston

1850 to 1887

Poem Image

She speaks no word, but, stretching out her hand, 
Touches him softly where asleep he lies; 
And he, too feeble now to feel surprise, 
Awakes and faintly smiles: they understand. 
But now her fragrant breath his brow has fanned; 
He raises to her face large, hungry eyes, 
While like entrancing music fall her sighs 
Upon his heart long exiled from joy's land. 

For she, repenting of a deed ill done. 
Bows, kissing tenderly his white, chilled face, 
And in the dim gold twilight of her hair 
His eyes grow blind; he feels her last embrace; 
Then on her breast his head sinks unaware, 
And life goes nightwards with the setting sun.