Philip Henry Savage

1868-1899 / the United States

My Sisters Have Their Loves

My sisters have their loves, but I
Am all alone, she said.
And oh! the weary wonder Why.
And oh! that I were dead.
Ai me for life and love! she saith.
She says, I am in love with death.

Ai me! for love is very sweet,
And hearts are warm to wed;
But burn to ashes in defeat
And loneliness, she said.
Ai me! And with her wasting breath
She says, I am in love with death.

And when my couch they shall prepare,
And come for me, she said,
They 'll bring white roses for my hair,
And not the roses red.
Ai me, for life and love! she saith.
She says, I am in love with death.
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