Elizabeth Stoddard



Hallo! My Fancy, Whither Wilt Thou Go?

by Elizabeth Stoddard

Swift as the tide in the river
The blood flows through my heart,
At the curious little fancy
That to-morrow we must part.

It seems to me all over,
The last words have been said;
And I have the curious fancy
To-morrow will find me dead!


Copyright 1895
Houghton, Mifflin And Company, Boston And New York