University of Virginia Library

BY the City Dead-House, by the gate,
As idly sauntering, wending my way from the clangor,
I curious pause — for lo! an outcast form, a poor dead      prostitute brought;
Her corpse they deposit unclaim'd, it lies on the      damp brick pavement;
The divine woman, her body — I see the Body — I look      on it alone,
That house once full of passion and beauty — all else I      notice not;
Nor stillness so cold, nor running water from faucet,      nor odors morbific impress me;
But the house alone — that wondrous house — that de-      licate fair house — that ruin!
That immortal house, more than all the rows of dwel-     lings ever built!
Or white-domed Capitol itself, with magestic figure sur-     mounted — or all the old high-spired cathedrals,
That little house alone, more than them all — poor,      desperate house!
Fair, fearful wreck! tenement of a Soul! itself a Soul!
Unclaim'd, avoided house! take one breath from my      tremulous lips;
Take one tear, dropt aside as I go, for thought of you,
Dead house of love! house of madness and sin, crum-     bled! crush'd!
House of life — erewhile talking and laughing — but      ah, poor house! dead, even then;
Months, years, an echoing, garnish'd house — but      dead, dead, dead.