Marah :: :: University of Virginia Library

We died, she and I, the same day. That I know;
Tho' we died, I remember not when;
But together we died; and I cannot guess how
We are here with the living again.

2

We ought to be both in our graves: and this much
I can tell by the shuddering thrill
That a dead corpse feels at the casual touch
Of a corpse more inanimate still.

3

But spells we obey, and are bound by their guile,
Dead and gone tho' we be, to contrive
For the sake of appearance to chatter and smile,
And pretend to be feeling alive.

4

I know, little friend, tho' defunct, you can do
With the smallest allowance of rest.
'T'was the joy of your life to be seen, and to go
About everywhere, daintily dress'd.

5

You never were glad to get early to bed;
And this constantly gadding about,
As you liked it alive, may have charms for you dead.
But for me—it is wearing me out!

6

Do, dear, for the sake of the days that are gone,
Put me back in my coffin and pall!
Nothing black for my burial need you put on,
Nor be miss'd from the liveliest ball.

7

From asking the living to lend me a hand
To get back to my grave, I refrain;
For I fear lest the living should misunderstand
What 'tis hard for the dead to explain.

8

But you are as little alive, dear, as I.
And I have not a sister or brother
To vouchsafe me this service. Nor can you deny
That the dead have a claim on each other.