Westward
By John Banister Tabb
And dost thou lead him hence with thee,
O setting sun,
And leave the shadows all to me
When he is gone?
Ah, if my grief his guerdon be,
My dark his light,
I count each loss felicity,
And bless the night.
Source Book
Poems
by John Banister Tabb
Copyright 1860
Published by Ticknor And Fields, Boston
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Westward
by John Banister Tabb
