She died, as many travellers have died, O'ertaken on an Alpine road by night; Numbed and bewildered by the falling snow, Striving, in spite of falling pulse, and limbs Which faltered and grew feeble at each step, To toil up the icy steep, and bear Patient and faithful to the last, the load Which, in the sunny morn seemed light! And yet 'T was in the place she called her home, she died; And they who loved her with the all of love Their wintry natures had to give, stood by And wept some tears, and wrote above her grave Some common record which they thought was true; But I, who loved her first, and last, and best, -- @3I@1 knew. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FIFTY YEARS (1863-1913) by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON ANNE by LIZETTE WOODWORTH REESE TO A BUTTERFLY (1) by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH MYRMIDONES: THE WOUNDED EAGLE by AESCHYLUS SECTION GANG: NIGHT by NORMAN BOLKER |