| |
| A WARM gold shining world. | |
| A whispering, laughing world. | |
| |
| You would not think that Death stands there in the sun, | |
| Leaning against the posts of the red-brick house, | |
| Leaning across the bright brass knocker and knob and bell. | 5 |
| |
| A warm gold shining world, | |
| And crocuses up in the lawn. | |
| |
| If Death were not so thin, | |
| Like air or water or gas, | |
| He would darken the smooth white door. | 10 |
| He would stain the little square gleaming window-lights dull gray. | |
| But he is so clear and thin | |
| That they glitter and sparkle and live … | |
| |
| She was young, and her cheeks were red. | |
| She was young, and loved laughing and gossip. | 15 |
| She wore coral-color, and sapphire, and violet; | |
| And hats with feathers that knew how to trick you to staring; | |
| And shoes high-heeled, quick, dainty. | |
| She did not think much. She was gay. | |
| No one will say, “She is dead.” | 20 |
| The crocuses out in the lawn— | |
| White and purple and orange candles, | |
| Windless and warm and safe— | |
| Burn the brown soil with beauty … | |
| |
| No one will say, “She is dead.” | 25 |
| Yet Death stands there in the sun. | |
| |
