Sunstroke
Oh, straight, white road that runs to meet,Across green fields, the blue green sea,You knew the little weary feetOf my child bride that was to be!
Her people brought her from the shoreOne golden day in sultry June,And I stood, waiting, at the door,Praying my eyes might see her soon.
With eager arms, wide open thrown,Now never to be satisfied!Ere I could make my love my ownShe closed her amber eyes and died.
Alas! alas! they took no heedHow frail she was, my little one,But brought her here with cruel speedBeneath the fierce, relentless sun.
We laid her on the marriage bedThe bridal flowers in her hand,A maiden from the ocean ledOnly, alas! to die inland.
I walk alone; the air is sweet,The white road wanders to the sea,I dream of those two little feetThat grew so tired in reaching me.