SHE called me a moment before, And smiled, as I entered the door, In her gentle way; A sigh ... a droop of the head ... And something forever had fled, And she was but clay! Her hand was yet clasped in mine; And bright, in the golden shine, Her brown hair fell; But the marble Psyche there As soon would have heard my prayer, My wild farewell. 'Twas the hush of an autumn noon, So clear that the waning moon Was a ghost in the sky; Not a leaf on the lindens swayed, And even the brook in the glade Ran, noiseless, by. @3What@1 had gone from the room, Leaving the sunshine gloom, The soft air chill? If the tiniest bird had flown, Its flight had a shadow thrown On lawn and rill; But neither a sound nor sight Disturbed the calm or the light Of the noontide air; Yet the friend I loved was as far As a ghostly moon or star, From my call and care. Dead, with her hand in mine! Dead, in the golden shine Of the autumn day! Dead, and no note in heaven, Nor a gleam of white wings given, To mark her way! And my heart went up in the cry, 'How did the swift soul fly? What life inherit?'... Then the wind blew sweet and was gone ... And a voice said, '@3So is one Born of the Spirit.@1' | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EPITAPHS OF THE WAR, 1914-18: COMMON FORM by RUDYARD KIPLING HISTORY OF A LIFE by BRYAN WALLER PROCTER CORRYMEELA by NESTA HIGGINSON SKRINE GOD'S DETERMINATIONS: THE JOY OF CHURCH FELLOWSHIP RIGHTLY ATTENDED by EDWARD TAYLOR TO THE REV. F.D. MAURICE by ALFRED TENNYSON TO CHLOE by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS |