WE sat with the banqueting-party By the table-end -- Unmarked, -- no diners out Were we: scarce a friend Of our own mind's trend Was there, though the welcome was hearty. Then we noticed a shade extend By a distant screen, And I said: "What to you does it seem to mean, Lavine?" "-- It is like my own body lying Beyond the door Where the servants glide in and about The carpeted floor; And it means my death hour! --" "-- What a fancy! Who feels like dying While these smart sallies pour, With laughter between! To me it is more like satin sheen, Lavine." "-- That means your new bride, when you win her: Yes, so it must be! It's her satin dress, no doubt -- That shine you see -- My own corpse to me!" And a gloom came over the dinner, Where almost strangers were we, As the spirit of the scene Forsook her -- the fairest of the whole thirteen -- Lavine! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE ARCHITECT (2) by KAREN SWENSON COWPER'S GRAVE by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING THE RAILWAY TRAIN by EMILY DICKINSON EPIGRAM: HERO AND LEANDER by JOHN DONNE DITTY IN IMITATION OF THE SPANISH: ENTRE TANTO QUE L'AVRIL by EDWARD HERBERT THE HAYLOFT by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON IN MEMORY OF WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE CARCASSONNE (SUGGESTED BY LORD DUNSANY'S STORY) by BERTON BRALEY |