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There lay she praying, upwardly intent,
Like a fair statue on a monument,
With her two trembling hands together prest,
Palm against palm, and pointing from her breast.
She ceased, and turning slowly towards the wall,
They saw her tremble sharply, feet and all,—
Then suddenly be still. Near and more near
They bent with pale inquiry and close ear;—
Her eyes were shut—no motion—not a breath—
The gentle sufferer was at peace in death.
Like a fair statue on a monument,
With her two trembling hands together prest,
Palm against palm, and pointing from her breast.
She ceased, and turning slowly towards the wall,
They saw her tremble sharply, feet and all,—
Then suddenly be still. Near and more near
They bent with pale inquiry and close ear;—
Her eyes were shut—no motion—not a breath—
The gentle sufferer was at peace in death.
I pass the grief that struck to every face,
And the mute anguish all about that place,
In which the silent people, here and there,
Went soft, as if she still could feel their care.
The gentle-tempered for a while forgot
Their own distress, or wept the common lot:
And the mute anguish all about that place,
In which the silent people, here and there,
Went soft, as if she still could feel their care.
The gentle-tempered for a while forgot
Their own distress, or wept the common lot:
