| |
| I DIED; they wrapped me in a shroud, | |
| With hollow mourning, far too loud, | |
| And sighs that were but empty sound, | |
| And laid me low within the ground. | |
| I felt her tears through all the rest; | 5 |
| Past sheet and shroud they reached my breast; | |
| They warmed to life the frozen clay, | |
| And I began to smile and say: | |
| At last thou lov’st me, Helena! | |
| |
| I rose up in the dead of night; | 10 |
| I sought her window;—’t was alight. | |
| A pebble clattered ’gainst the pane,— | |
| “Who’s there? the wind and falling rain?” | |
| “Ah! no; but one thy tears have led | |
| To leave his chill and narrow bed | 15 |
| To warm himself before thy breath; | |
| Who for thy sake has conquered death. | |
| Arise, and love me, Helena!” | |
| |
| She oped the door, she drew me in. | |
| Her mouth was pale, her cheek was thin; | 20 |
| Her eyes were dim; its length unrolled, | |
| Fell loosely down her hair of gold. | |
| My presence wrought her grief’s eclipse; | |
| She pressed her lips upon my lips, | |
| She held me fast in her embrace, | 25 |
| Her hands went wandering o’er my face: | |
| At last thou lov’st me, Helena! | |
| |
| The days are dark, the days are cold, | |
| And heavy lies the churchyard mould. | |
| But ever, at the deep of night, | 30 |
| Their faith the dead and living plight. | |
| Who would not die if certain bliss | |
| Could be foreknown? and such as this | |
| No life—away! the hour is nigh, | |
| With heart on fire she waits my cry: | 35 |
| Arise, and love me, Helena! | |
| |
