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Poems: New and Old

By Henry Newbolt
  
  

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Snow-White
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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178

Snow-White

The children said,
“When Christmas comes this year
Then Lucy shall be dead
And laid upon a bier:
And we,” they said,
“Will stand there in our places
With dwarfish hoods of red
Hiding our faces.
“There she will be
Wrapped in her golden hair
And very still, and we
All still about her there:
Not sad nor crying,
But wondering what has come
To keep our Snow-White lying
So pale and dumb.”
O play too brave!
They in their childish art
Knew not to whom they gave
That unregarded part—

179

How should they tell
That the brief scene they played
Might be by his sure spell
Eternal made?
They had their will.
But when they saw her there
Lying so pale and still
Wrapped in her golden hair,
Ah! with what tears
Their sad hearts clung about her,
Foreboding the dim years
Lost, lost, without her.