IT lies dim and cold on the face of the mould, Like a smile on the lips of the dead. As chill and as white, as dense and as light As the winding-sheet laid in the still of the night Over the funeral bed. No pulse seems to throb, no voice dares to sob Beneath the grey calm of the cloud. A hush holds the air with pale bands of despair, Too close to be pierced by a curse or a prayer— The hush of a soul in its shroud. No stars in the sky; no lights low or high; No laughter; no weeping; no breath; No murmur, no sound in the whole world around, But a silence that lies blank and chill on the ground, Like the visible presence of Death. No murmur. No sound. Only white on the ground There creeps the thin silence along— Creeps near and more near,—oh, so dim! oh, so drear! Till I shiver, as one who has stood by a bier, And the words die away in my song. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FAIRY TALE by KATHERINE MANSFIELD ABOVE HALF MOON by JAMES GALVIN SAVORING THE PAST by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE TEMPTRESS by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON SPECIAL PLEADING by SIDNEY LANIER SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: HENRY PHIPPS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |