Sunstroke

Oh, straight, white road that runs to meet,

Across green fields, the blue green sea,

You knew the little weary feet

Of my child bride that was to be!

Her people brought her from the shore

One 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 own

She closed her amber eyes and died.

Alas! alas! they took no heed

How frail she was, my little one,

But brought her here with cruel speed

Beneath the fierce, relentless sun.

We laid her on the marriage bed

The bridal flowers in her hand,

A maiden from the ocean led

Only, alas! to die inland.

I walk alone; the air is sweet,

The white road wanders to the sea,

I dream of those two little feet

That grew so tired in reaching me.