Eva

S. Foster

Bloom bright fair flowers around the white stone

Where sleepeth my Eva, my loved one and my own,

Who departed in sadness and left me alone,

Sweet Eva, my loved one my own.

She was the idol of life's early day,

But, fearing the censure that worldling's might say,

Pride tore my weak heart from Eva away,

From Eva, sweet Eva away.

She died, it was better than living apart,

She died, and the sunlight went out from my heart

She died, and this cold world no you can impart,

From Eva, no joy can impart.