Stole mourning o'er the horizon.
And then, I feared to stay alone
With Germaine, who lay there and smiled
So still and gladly as a child
In first sleep, whilst my tears had made
Rivers upon her breast and head
And she cared nothing! So I took
My cloak and garment, from the hook
Where hung her clothes. I wept, again
Touching and kissing them. "Germaine!"
I cried, and summoned thus the dead.
I took the linen off the bed
And laid one line of winding shroud
Over my love: and weeping loud
I looked where she lay smiling, glad,
From head to feet, twilight yclad,
Then I crept out—a grey old man.
······
And then, I feared to stay alone
With Germaine, who lay there and smiled
So still and gladly as a child
In first sleep, whilst my tears had made
Rivers upon her breast and head
And she cared nothing! So I took
My cloak and garment, from the hook
Where hung her clothes. I wept, again
Touching and kissing them. "Germaine!"
I cried, and summoned thus the dead.
I took the linen off the bed
And laid one line of winding shroud
Over my love: and weeping loud
I looked where she lay smiling, glad,
From head to feet, twilight yclad,
Then I crept out—a grey old man.
······
24
