BACKWARD the prison door is flung, Without the young wife stands; While to herself she murmurs with bright eyes, And over-eager hands. They brought the young man out to her, That was so strong erewhile; Slowly he ventured up to her strange arms With unrecalling smile. O like a mother she must lead His slow and wandering pace; He stammers to her like a little child, And wonders in her face. O like a daughter must she live, And no wife to him now; Only remain beside those ailing limbs, And soothe that aged brow. "Husband," she said, "I had rather closed Those wild eyes on the bier, Rather have kissed those lips when they were cold, Than seen them smile so drear!" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO WORDSWORTH by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY RETURN by KENNETH SLADE ALLING TROPIC NIGHTFALL by ROBERT AVRETT LE GUIGNON by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE CONJUGAL CONJUGATIONS by AMERICUS WELLINGTON BELLAW LIFE EFFECTUAL by ANNE MILLAY BREMER EPITAPH ON THE RIGHT HONOURABLE SUSAN, COUNTESS OF MONTGOMERY by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) |