Verses from Maoriland/Suspiria
SUSPIRIA
Clasped in the clinging arms of Death she lies,
All robed in white as best befits a bride,
In solemn state amongst her draperies,—
The mirror by her side.
All robed in white as best befits a bride,
In solemn state amongst her draperies,—
The mirror by her side.
The deadly crystals glitter in the glass,—
The last late roses glimmer on her bed,—
The sunbeams steal between the slats, and pass
To greet her who is dead.
The last late roses glimmer on her bed,—
The sunbeams steal between the slats, and pass
To greet her who is dead.
She will not sin, nor suffer, any more,
She heeds no comments from the curious crowd,
She does not hear it buzzing at the door;
Peace wraps her in its shroud.
She heeds no comments from the curious crowd,
She does not hear it buzzing at the door;
Peace wraps her in its shroud.
And I? I have no sighs of vain regret
For dear lost love, for fair hopes vanishéd,
No passionate tears her poor pale fingers wet
Even now,—when she is dead.
For dear lost love, for fair hopes vanishéd,
No passionate tears her poor pale fingers wet
Even now,—when she is dead.
Nay, deeper, deeper than the deepest Hell,
Stranger than life, sadder than friend forgot,
My grief,—who grieve not that I loved too well,
But that I loved her not.
Stranger than life, sadder than friend forgot,
My grief,—who grieve not that I loved too well,
But that I loved her not.