Putnam patriot., 1913-06-13

fe>tefuHN.
People go by Just the same,
And the bells ring every hour;
And the great clock tells the time
On the corner, from the tower.
And the little children smile
In the house across the way.
But they miss the smile they met
Yesterday.
And the street Is just the same,
Hurrying footsteps, din and noise;
And from far away the cry
OF crowd of happy boys.
But we turn 10 where star
Shines with tender, loving ray;
All The dear stars seem so near since
Yesterday.
All the trees stand just the same
Branches traced against the sky;
In the field the flowers are seen
Where the buried people lie.
Lovingly the MOSES creep
On the stones so old and gray.
Why! think! She was walking there
Yesterday.
All the papers in pile
On the table by the door;
just as they have always been
On the many days before.
On the top paper lies;
And, All me! why should 1t say
AS IL does, "Died Suddenly
Yesterday.
gent, and he also read "He and She,
a poem which was the first clipping in
scrap book begun by her in the first
years of her welded life.
aShe is dead - they said TO him;
"come away:
Kiss her and leave her,--thy love is
clay."
They smoothed the tresses of fair, fair
hair;
On her forehead of stone they laid 1t
fair;
Over her eyes that gazed too much
They drew the lids with gentle touch;
With a tender touch they closed up
The sweet thin lips that had secrets to
tell;
And over her bosom they crossed her
hands.
eCome away q they said; "God un-
derstands. I"
And there was silence, and nothing
there
But silence, and scents of eglantere,
And jasmine, and roses, and rosemary;
And they said, Gas lady should lie,
lies she.
And they held their breath till they
left the room,
With shudder, to glance at its still
ness and gloom.
But he who loved her too well to dread
The sweet, the stately, the beautiful
dead,
He lit his lamp and took the key
And turned it.-alone again--he and she.
He and she; but she would not speak,
the quiet cheek.
He and she; vet she would not smile,
Though he called her the name she
loved erewhile.
He and she; still she did not move
To any one passionate whisper of love.
Then he said: "Cold lips and breasts
without breath,
Is there no voice, no language of death?
"Dumb to the ear and still TO the sense,
But TO heart and to soul distinct, in
tense?
"See now; | will listen with soul, not
ear.
What was the secret of dying, dear?
HW as il the infinite wonder of all
That you ever could let life's flower
fall?
"Or was it a greater marvel to feel
The perfect calm DER the agony steal?
"Was the miracle greater to lind how
deep
Beyond all dreams sank downward
that sleep?
"Did life roll back its records, dear,
And show, as they say IL does, past
things clearY
sand was it the innermost heart Of
the bliss
To find out so, what wisdom love Is?
80 perfect dead o dead most dear,
| hold the breath of my soul to hear
81 listen as deep as to horrible hell,
AS high as TO heaven, and you do not
tell.
"There must be pleasure in dying,
sweet,
10 make you so placid from head to
feet
~ would tell you, darling, II were
dead,
And stwere your hot tears upon my
brow she'd
~ would say, though the Angel of
Death had laid
His sword on my lips TO keep II unsaid.
"You should not ask vainly with
streaming eyes,
Which Of all deaths was the chiefest
surprise,
1.-THE very strangest and saddenest
thing
OF all the surprises that dying must
bring"
All, foolish world; O most kind dead !
Though he told me, who will believe
IL was said
| Who will believe that he heard her say,
| With the sweet, soft voice, In the dear
| old way;
"The utmost wonder Is this,--I hear
And see you, and love you, and kiss
you, dear;
"And am your angel, who was your
bride,
And know that, though dead, 1 have
never died"