UNDER the heavy sod she lies -- I saw them close her beautiful eyes -- She lies so still, and she lies so deep, That all of them think she is fast asleep. I, only, know at the night's high noon She comes from the grave they made too soon: I see the light of her cold, bright eyes, As I see the stars in the wintry skies. The scornful gleam of an old surprise Is still alive in those wonderful eyes -- And the mocking lips are ripe and red, Smiling, still, at the words I said. She mocks me now, as she mocked me then: -- 'Dead is dead,' say the world of men -- But I know when the stars of midnight rise She shines on me with her cold, bright eyes. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BEGGAR'S HOLIDAY, FR. BEGGAR'S BUSH by JOHN FLETCHER HOME THOUGHTS FROM FRANCE by ISAAC ROSENBERG PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 91 by EDWIN ARNOLD STANZAS: IN THE MANNER OF SPENSER by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD THE FORMER LIFE by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE |