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8
Beatrice
Where I could feel his eyes the while I prayed.
I think if he had stretched his hands to me,
Or moved his lips to say a single word,
I might have loved him—he had wondrous eyes.
Ornella, are you there? I cannot see—
Is every one so lonely when he dies?
The room is filled with lights—with waving lights—
Who are the men and women 'round the bed?
What have I said, Ornella? Have they heard?
There was no evil hidden in my life,
And yet, and yet, I would not have them know—
Am I not floating in a mist of light?
O lift me up and I shall reach the sun!
