A NEIGHBOURHOOD INCIDENT.
"Did you know, Mamma, that the man was dead
In that pretty place, there under the hill"
"So, with only the clouds to cover his head,
He died down there in that old stone mill;
He died, in the wind and sleet, and—mark
This truth, fair sirs—in the dark.
In that pretty place, there under the hill"
"So, with only the clouds to cover his head,
He died down there in that old stone mill;
He died, in the wind and sleet, and—mark
This truth, fair sirs—in the dark.
"(Yes, a pretty place!) In the summer-time,
When the birds sing out of the leaves for joy,
And the blue wild morning-glories climb
On the broken walls, it is pretty, my boy:
But not when the world around is snow
And the river is ice below.
When the birds sing out of the leaves for joy,
And the blue wild morning-glories climb
On the broken walls, it is pretty, my boy:
But not when the world around is snow
And the river is ice below.
"Men looked sometimes from the morning cars
Toward the place where he lay in the winter sun,
And said, through the smoke of their dear cigars,
That something really ought to be done.
Then talked of the President, or the play,
Or the war—that was farthest away."
Toward the place where he lay in the winter sun,
And said, through the smoke of their dear cigars,
That something really ought to be done.
Then talked of the President, or the play,
Or the war—that was farthest away."
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