 | The collected works of Ambrose Bierce |  |
PRIVATION
With her grief the widow was so engrossed
As she rode at the hearse's rear,
That I really think the dead man's ghost
Must have shed the ghost of a tear.
As she rode at the hearse's rear,
That I really think the dead man's ghost
Must have shed the ghost of a tear.
She murmured and moaned and wiped her eyes
And blew her pale nose for relief,
Then started and cried, as in pained surprise,
“I've forgotten my handkerchief!
And blew her pale nose for relief,
Then started and cried, as in pained surprise,
“I've forgotten my handkerchief!
“O, what shall I do when we get to the grave
And the coffin is put in the ground?
I know I shall weep, for I cannot be brave
With those staring people all round.”
And the coffin is put in the ground?
I know I shall weep, for I cannot be brave
With those staring people all round.”
302
“Be calm,” said one; “there is nothing forgot,
For your handkerchief you bring—
You are holding it—see.” Said the widow: “What!
This pokey old linen thing?”
For your handkerchief you bring—
You are holding it—see.” Said the widow: “What!
This pokey old linen thing?”
| The collected works of Ambrose Bierce | |