And when I seek the chamber where she dwelt, Near one loved chair a well-worn spot I see, Worn by the shifting of a feeble knee While the poor head bowed lowly - it would melt The worlding's heart with instant sympathy: The match-box and the manual, lying there, Those sad sweet signs of wakefulness and prayer, Are darling tokens of the Past to me; The little rasping sound of taper lit At midnight, which aroused her slumbering bird: The motion of her languid frame that stirred For ease in some new posture - tho' a word Perchance, of sudden anguish, followed it; All this how often had I seen and heard! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE ORIGIN OF DIDACTIC POETRY by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL SONNET: 129 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE A BALLAD OF LIFE by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE HIMALAYA by WILLIMINA L. ARMSTRONG NEW YORK HARBOR by PARK BENJAMIN |