 | Voices and visions |  |
[XVI I am alone with you, Ellen Vane]
I am alone with you, Ellen Vane,
In the dim room where you lie;
You cannot hear the wind in the pines,
Nor see the red sunset die.
The peace on your brow is an utter peace,
Your rest an unchanging rest,—
With one white rose in your hand, Ellen Vane,
And one white rose on your breast.
In the dim room where you lie;
You cannot hear the wind in the pines,
Nor see the red sunset die.
The peace on your brow is an utter peace,
Your rest an unchanging rest,—
With one white rose in your hand, Ellen Vane,
And one white rose on your breast.
In life you loved me not, Ellen Vane. ...
Do you love me now when dead?
Believe me, I cast no sad reproach
On your beautiful stirless head.
Perhaps ... and perhaps ... and perhaps ... who knows?
—But now, good-morrow, good rest,
With one white rose in your hand, Ellen Vane,
And one white rose on your breast.
Do you love me now when dead?
Believe me, I cast no sad reproach
On your beautiful stirless head.
Perhaps ... and perhaps ... and perhaps ... who knows?
—But now, good-morrow, good rest,
With one white rose in your hand, Ellen Vane,
And one white rose on your breast.
| Voices and visions | |