Poetry The Day She Died.

Tuapeka Times, Volume XX, Issue 1428, 11 February 1888, Page 1 (Supplement)

Poetry The Day She Died.

All as she left it within her room ;

Her footstool here where she u&ed it last ; Her chair drawn near to the plants in bloom — The time of flowers will soon be past. Here is her wort-box, and white as milk

Her velvet cushion lies by its side ; And a needle threaded with rose-lived silk

Just as she left it the day she died. On the sofa there is the dress she wore,

Painty the sheer soft muslin thing — It suited her tender face of yore

Because of its tints like the burls of spring. A crumpled glove on her dressing case,

The print of fingers within it yet, And about it lini>eriug still a trace Of violet vague and mignonette. A ribbofi dropped on the carpet near,

By her own soft fingers its knot was tied ; No one has dared to enter here

Since the sudden, sorrowful day she died. There on the table her open book, And the blot of a tear that seems scarcely dried ; The story, perhaps, has a sadder look, JDecause she read it the day she died. There her drawing but half complete j

And open yonder the song: she tried ; In the Other Land will she sing it as sweet

Aa she sang it her.; on the day she died ? And here, ah me ! on her writing case, Her open ink and her paper spread, With a few last words which her hand did trace ; Through the fall of my tears they can scarce be read. A letter it is and commenced to me :

Commenced to me on the day she died ; 4 When love grows deathless I'll marry thee," la P«rndlse will I ga : n. my bride ?