 | Denzil place |  |
Half stupified he watch'd her lying there
So calm and still, who but some hours ago
Was warm with life;—so sudden it all seem'd,—
The words we say at parting left unsaid,
And round about him all the many things
Inanimate, yet seeming now to cry
With eager voices, “No, she is not dead!”
All in a row the little high-heel'd shoes
Those fairy feet would never wear again,—
Upon a chair her hat and parasol,
Whilst the white dress she wore but yesterday
Was flutt'ring in the flower-scented air
From where it hung upon the looking-glass—
The glass that never more would mirror back
That well-known earnest face, for she was dead!
So calm and still, who but some hours ago
Was warm with life;—so sudden it all seem'd,—
231
And round about him all the many things
Inanimate, yet seeming now to cry
With eager voices, “No, she is not dead!”
All in a row the little high-heel'd shoes
Those fairy feet would never wear again,—
Upon a chair her hat and parasol,
Whilst the white dress she wore but yesterday
Was flutt'ring in the flower-scented air
From where it hung upon the looking-glass—
The glass that never more would mirror back
That well-known earnest face, for she was dead!
| Denzil place | |