 | Poems and Sonnets |  |
79
HER BEDROOM.
She had waited, silly, overlong,She had dallied, now she lay in bed,
Ended was her coy coquettish song,
She had put him off, 'twas very wrong,
By her bedside flourished blue and strong
The forget-me-not, but she was dead,
And he, coming, found a flower instead,
And a gaping sad funereal throng.
| Poems and Sonnets | |