I LAY in silence, dead. A woman came And laid a rose upon my breast, and said, "May God be merciful." She spoke my name, And added, "It is strange to think him dead. "He loved me well enough, but 't was his way To speak it lightly." Then, beneath her breath: "Besides" -- I knew what further she would say, But then a footfall broke my dream of death. To-day the words are mine. I lay the rose Upon her breast, and speak her name, and deem It strange indeed that she is dead. God knows I had more pleasure in the other dream. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LAMENT FOR [THE DEATH OF] THOMAS DAVIS by SAMUEL FERGUSON THE GOLD-SEEKERS by HAMLIN GARLAND 23RD STREET RUNS INTO HEAVEN by KENNETH PATCHEN HARMOSAN by RICHARD CHENEVIX TRENCH SURCEASE by ALICE GARDNER ADAMS PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 99. AZ-ZABOOR by EDWIN ARNOLD THE INCURABLE; A SONG by PHILIP AYRES THE CANON OF AUGHRIM by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT THE WANDERER: 5. IN HOLLAND: KING SOLOMON by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |