100
The Blue Closet
What if his hair that brush'd her cheek
Was stiff with frozen rime?
His eyes were grown quite blue again,
As in the happy time.
"O, love Louise, this is the key
Of the happy golden land!
O, sisters, cross the bridge with me,
My eyes are full of sand.
What matter that I cannot see,
If ye take me by the hand?"
And ever the great bell overhead,
And the tumbling seas mourn'd for the dead;
For their song ceased, and they were dead.
