@2I@1 THOUGHT to have made her my bride, And now she is dead; Death holds her close by his side In his earth-dark bed. Not a murmur, a motion, a breath!— In vain does he woo: Being dead, yet she yields not to Death;— Endlessly true! She knows that I need her now All else above: She will come to me; when and how We leave to Love. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SAILOR TO HIS PARROT by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 23 by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 39. NOT CHRIST, BUT CHRIST'S GOD by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) AUTUMN by JESSIE ALBERT BARNEY REUNION IN WAR by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |