They drew the blinds down, and the house was old With shadows, and so cold, Filled up with shuddery silence like held breath. And when I grew quite bold And asked them why, they said that this was death. They walked tiptoe about the house that day And turned their heads away Each time I passed. I sat down in surprise And quite forgot to play, Seeing them pass with wonder in their eyes. My mother came into my room that night Holding a shaded light Above my face till she was sure I slept; But I lay still with fright, Hearing her breath, and knowing that she wept. And afterward, with not a one to see, I got up quietly And tried each step I made with my bare feet Until it seemed to me That all the air grew sorrowful and sweet. So without breathing I went down the stair, In the light chilly air, Into the parlor, where the perfumes led. I lit my candle there And held it a long time above my head. There was an oblong box, and at its base Grew lilies in a vase As white as they. I thought them very tall In such a listening place, And they threw fearful shadows on the wall. I tiptoed to the box, then, silently, To look what death could be; And then I smiled, for it was father who Was sleeping quietly. He dreamed, I think, for he was smiling, too. And all at once I knew death is a thing That stoops down, whispering A dear, forgotten secret in your ear Such as the winds can sing. And then you sleep and dream and have no fear. Perhaps the winds have told the dream to flowers On nights of lonely hours; Perhaps we, too, could learn if we could seek The wind in his watch-towers; Perhaps the lilies knew, but could not speak. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HOMAGE TO SEXTUS PROPERTIUS: 9 by EZRA POUND SONNET TO HIS FRIEND R.L. IN PRAISE OF MUSIQUE AND POETRIE by RICHARD BARNFIELD OUR GOOD PRESIDENT by PHOEBE CARY SUNKEN GOLD by EUGENE JACOB LEE-HAMILTON A LONDON FETE by COVENTRY KERSEY DIGHTON PATMORE AN INVITATION TO A DRINKFEST by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS |