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1 86 POEMS.
��XLVIII.
��HPHERE 's been a death in the opposite house
- As lately as to-day.
I know it by the numb look Such houses have alway.
��The neighbors rustle in and out,
The doctor drives away. A window opens like a pod,
Abrupt, mechanically ;
Somebody flings a mattress out,
The children hurry by ; They wonder if It died on that,
I used to when a boy.
The minister goes stiffly in
As if the house were his, And he owned all the mourners now,
And little boys besides ;
�� �
