Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, MIMMA BELLA; IN MEMORY OF A LITTLE LIFE: 18, by EUGENE JACOB LEE-HAMILTON


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MIMMA BELLA; IN MEMORY OF A LITTLE LIFE: 18, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Lo, through the open window of the room
Last Line: And watch it breathless, lest it should be she.
Subject(s): Death - Children; Death - Babies


Lo, through the open window of the room
That was her nursery, a small bright spark
Comes wandering in, as falls the summer dark,
And with a measured flight explores the gloom,

As if it sought, among the things that loom
Vague in the dusk, for some familiar mark,
And like a light on some wee unseen bark,
It tacks in search of who knows what or whom.

I know 'tis but a fire-fly; yet its flight,
So straight, so measured, round the empty bed,
Might be a little soul's that night sets free;

And as it nears, I feel my heart grow tight
With something like a superstitious dread,
And watch it breathless, lest it should be she.





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