Arthur Graeme West - Seeing Her Off

A whistle ’mid the distant hills
Shattered the silence grey,
She turned on me her great sad eyes,
Then lightly skimmed away.

I followed slow her flying feet
In idlest heaviness,
But oh! my heart it laught to see
Roar through the proud express.

In the after silence and the gloom
I found her there again,
And won three minutes more delight
Before the second pain.

Arthur Graeme West

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