I LAY in silence, dead. A woman came And laid a rose upon my breast, and said, "May God be merciful." She spoke my name, And added, "It is strange to think him dead. "He loved me well enough, but 't was his way To speak it lightly." Then, beneath her breath: "Besides" -- I knew what further she would say, But then a footfall broke my dream of death. To-day the words are mine. I lay the rose Upon her breast, and speak her name, and deem It strange indeed that she is dead. God knows I had more pleasure in the other dream. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GOOD-BYE DOROTHY GAYLE: THE ROAD TO BUFFALO by KAREN SWENSON THE GOLDEN NET by WILLIAM BLAKE MARY AND GABRIEL by RUPERT BROOKE THE FLOWER OF FINAE by THOMAS OSBORNE DAVIS PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 87. AL-GHANI by EDWIN ARNOLD BOX-CAR LETTERS by KARLE WILSON BAKER |