 | Short poems for short people |  |
LITTLE ISABEL.
A blue midsummer twilight. Day had set,
And soft winds made the garden leafage stir,
Sending sweet wafts of rose and mignonette
In through the still room where we watched by her.
And soft winds made the garden leafage stir,
Sending sweet wafts of rose and mignonette
In through the still room where we watched by her.
A single great gold star was hanging clear
Over the damask sunset. We knew well
That sure as even this star must disappear,
So death must soon find little Isabel.
Over the damask sunset. We knew well
That sure as even this star must disappear,
So death must soon find little Isabel.
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And now the west grew paler and the star
Sank lower, lower, and the night was come.
Through the wide-open window, seen afar,
We watched those glooming heavens, white-faced and dumb.
Sank lower, lower, and the night was come.
Through the wide-open window, seen afar,
We watched those glooming heavens, white-faced and dumb.
Presently little Isabel's weak hand
Moved gently, and she named a name. At this—
A summons more than any king's command—
Two lips met hers in a strong eager kiss.
Moved gently, and she named a name. At this—
A summons more than any king's command—
Two lips met hers in a strong eager kiss.
Just then behind some dead-black distant trees
The star dropt, hidden wholly. While it fell
There came a long wild murmur of the breeze,
And peace was with our little Isabel.
The star dropt, hidden wholly. While it fell
There came a long wild murmur of the breeze,
And peace was with our little Isabel.
| Short poems for short people | |