There is a river dark and still,
Behind a house, atop a hill.
There in it's depths my lover lies
And nightly I can hear her cries.
It's banks are bare, no flowers grow;
They died with her so long ago.
My spirit too, and still I weep
And pray for my eternal sleep.
On moonlit nights my love appears
And by the light I see her tears.
She waits there by the river's edge
For me to yet fulfill my pledge.
It was upon our wedding's eve
We argued, and for this I grieve
For angrily I struck the blow
That sent her to her death below.
This very night, at last her hand
Will wear the longed-for wedding band,
For I will keep the pledge I gave
And join her in the watery grave.
On moonlit nights we'll walk with pride,
A ghostly groom and ghostly bride,
Along that river dark and still,
Behind my house, atop the hill.
Herman Sequira's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (The River by Herman Sequira )
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
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