University of Virginia Library

AFTER DEATH.

Tread softly by this long, close-curtained room!
Within, reposing on her stateliest bed,
Lies one embowered in the velvet gloom;
A creature,—dead:
Lately how lovely, how beloved, how young!
Around her beauteous mouth, sweet eyes, and golden hair,
(Making the fair thrice fair,)
A poet's first and tenderest verse was flung.
Now she lies ghastly pale, stone-cold, quite hid
From balmy April and the fragrant air,
Upon the dark, green, silken coverlid;

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Her limbs laid out to suit the coffin's shape;
Her palms upon her breast,—
At rest!
What cries escape,—
What sounds come moaning from the chamber near?
Small voices as of children smite the ear
With pity; and grave notes of deeper grief;
And sobs, that bring relief
To hearts which else might break with too much woe,—
With thoughts of long ago,
Loss of all earthly joy, and sweet Love's overthrow!