Death overtook her Like a stealthy storm-cloud Pouncing upon a scintillating sunbeam And engulfing it within a stifling darkness. It was but yesterday That she lay in my arms. ... Her warm, moist lips were seeking mine, Her soft round arms, Like a noose of quivering satin, Were twined about my neck, And her dark, brooding eyes Flooded the bleak and barren chambers of my heart With the joyous light of love. This thing. ... This thing, lying so frigid and inert Upon the bare, unswept floor, And draped in a shroud of melancholy black, Once lived and loved. Now, it means no more to me Than that insignificant little fly That crawls so unconcernedly Upon the cold blanched forehead. And the mourners, With their raucous wails and forced tears, Are splendid buffoons in a mock tragedy. But why—why Are the chambers of my heart More bleak and barren Than ever. ... | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE COMING AMERICAN by SAM WALTER FOSS HARVEST SONG by LUDWIG HENRICH CHRISTOPH HOLTY ON THE DEATH OF A CAT by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI EVERYONE SANG by SIEGFRIED SASSOON A SONG OF RICHES by KATHARINE LEE BATES |