Above thy grave the robin sings,
And swarms of bright and happy things
Flit all about with sunlit wings,
But I am cheerless, Rosaline! 
The violets in the hillock toss,
The gravestone is o’ergrown with moss;
For nature feels not any loss,
But I am cheerless, Rosaline!

I did not know when thou wast dead;
A blackbird whistling overhead 50
Thrilled through my brain; I would have fled,
But dared not leave thee, Rosaline! 
The sun rolled down, and very soon,
Like a great fire, the awful moon
Rose, stained with blood, and then a swoon
Crept chilly o’er me, Rosaline!

The stars came out; and, one by one,
Each angel from his silver throne
Looked down and saw what I had done: 
I dared not hide me, Rosaline! 60
I crouched; I feared thy corpse would cry
Against me to God’s silent sky,
I thought I saw the blue lips try
To utter something, Rosaline!

I waited with a maddened grin
To hear that voice all icy thin
Slide forth and tell my deadly sin
To hell and heaven, Rosaline! 
But no voice came, and then it seemed,
That, if the very corpse had screamed, 70
The sound like sunshine glad had streamed
Through that dark stillness, Rosaline!

And then, amid the silent night,
I screamed with horrible delight,
And in my brain an awful light
Did seem to crackle, Rosaline! 
It is my curse! sweet memories fall
From me like snow, and only all
Of that one night, like cold worms, crawl
My doomed heart over, Rosaline! 80

Why wilt thou haunt me with thine eyes,
Wherein such blessed memories,
Such pitying forgiveness lies,
Than hate more bitter, Rosaline! 
Woe’s me!  I know that love so high
As thine, true soul, could never die,
And with mean clay in churchyard lie,—­
Would it might be so, Rosaline!

A REQUIEM

Ay, pale and silent maiden,
  Cold as thou liest there,
Thine was the sunniest nature
  That ever drew the air;
The wildest and most wayward,
  And yet so gently kind,
Thou seemedst but to body
  A breath of summer wind.

Into the eternal shadow
  That girds our life around,
Into the infinite silence
  Wherewith Death’s shore is bound,
Thou hast gone forth, beloved! 
  And I were mean to weep,
That thou hast left Life’s shallows
  And dost possess the Deep.

Thou liest low and silent,
  Thy heart is cold and still. 
Thine eyes are shut forever,
  And Death hath had his will;
He loved and would have taken;
  I loved and would have kept. 
We strove,—­and he was stronger,
  And I have never wept.

Let him possess thy body,
  Thy soul is still with me,
More sunny and more gladsome
  Than it was wont to be: 
Thy body was a fetter
  That bound me to the flesh,
Thank God that it is broken,
  And now I live afresh!