GOOD-NIGHT
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.
by Dame Mary Gilmore
![](https://static.wixstatic.com/media/97f35d_d1716f2fe0994bae8db18c90e3b7bc62~mv2.jpg/v1/fill/w_93,h_53,al_c,q_80,usm_0.66_1.00_0.01,blur_2,enc_auto/97f35d_d1716f2fe0994bae8db18c90e3b7bc62~mv2.jpg)