I looked upon a dead girl’s face
and heard
What seemed the voice of Love call unto
me
Out of her heart; whereon the charactery
Of her lost dreams I read there word for word:-
How on her soul no soul had touched, or
stirred
Her Life’s sad depths to rippling
melody,
Or made the imaged longing, there, to
be
The realization of a hope deferred.
So in her life had Love behaved to her.
Between the lonely chapters of her years
And her young eyes making no golden blur
With god-bright face and hair; who led
me to
Her side at last, and bade me, through
my tears,
With Death’s dumb face, too late,
to see and know.