134
WIDOWED AND CHILDLESS.
WIDOWED AND CHILDLESS.
They brought me the news last night, at moonrise;
I was sitting just here, where the silver fell in;
I remember I thought, as I looked at the skies,
That the world seemed too pure for the entrance of sin.
I was sitting just here, where the silver fell in;
I remember I thought, as I looked at the skies,
That the world seemed too pure for the entrance of sin.
I laid down my head on the cool window-ledge,⁁
Half happy, half sad with a trembling unrest;
I drank in the sweets of the white hawthorn hedge,
And flushed in the air gushing soft from the west.
Half happy, half sad with a trembling unrest;
I drank in the sweets of the white hawthorn hedge,
And flushed in the air gushing soft from the west.
A faint, hollow knock at the portico-door
Jarred on my ear; was it fancied or real?
Sadder sound than had ever alarmed me before,
Or wakened from slumber my dreaming Ideal.
Jarred on my ear; was it fancied or real?
Sadder sound than had ever alarmed me before,
Or wakened from slumber my dreaming Ideal.
I shuddered,—'twas cold,—the night air was chill;
Frigid and icy, my heart stopped its beat.
Omen? oh, was it an omen of ill?
What grim, ghastly phantom my vision would greet?
Frigid and icy, my heart stopped its beat.
Omen? oh, was it an omen of ill?
What grim, ghastly phantom my vision would greet?
Slowly and solemn my visitant came,
With irresolute lips and tear-brimming eye;
Spoke to me pitifully,—called me by name
In a broken voice choked by a shuddering sigh.
With irresolute lips and tear-brimming eye;
Spoke to me pitifully,—called me by name
In a broken voice choked by a shuddering sigh.
