Reading the Will
Here we have it, scratched and scored
By the tides of an impotent human soul;
He that wrote it died abhorred,
And scarcely the bell had ceased to toll
Ere they crowded together over the cake,
Ferret-eyed women and keen-faced men,
In the putrid well of his life to slake
Their viperous throats, and wonder when
The lawyer was coming to give their share—
Waiting like beasts behind the bars
For the meat apportioned,—and all the air
Thick with the hissing whisper that mars
Fame of the living and fame of the dead.
See that woman, her yellow teeth
Pressing the lip's thin line of red;
Mark the struggle that lies beneath
The outer surface of weepers and veils!
She was his housekeeper, people muttered
Hints, half-hinting, and half-heard tales,
Poison tipping each syllable uttered.
Charity, this! And the dead man lies
Still? Impossible! He must stir,
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