city under sea

Poem: After Death

The curtains were half drawn, the floor was swept
And strewn with rushes, rosemary and may
Lay thick upon the bed on which I lay,
Where through the lattice ivy-shadows crept.
He leaned above me, thinking that I slept
And could not hear him; but I heard him say,
‘Poor child, poor child’: and as he turned away
Came a deep silence, and I knew he wept.
He did not touch the shroud, or raise the fold
That hid my face, or take my hand in his,
Or ruffle the smooth pillows for my head:
He did not love me living; but once dead
He pitied me; and very sweet it is
To know he still is warm though I am cold.

- Christina Rossetti
Indexing:

Posts from This Journal by “poetry” Tag

  • Poem: XIII

    - John Donne What if this present were the world's last night? Mark in my heart, O soul, where thou dost dwell, The picture of Christ…

  • Poem: What the Bird Said Early in the Year

    - C.S. Lewis I heard in Addison's Walk a bird sing clear: This year the summer will come true. This year. This year. Winds will not strip the…

  • Poem: All That's Past

    - Walter de la Mare Very old are the woods; And the buds that break Out of the brier's boughs, When March winds wake, So old with their beauty…