“I LOOK IN HER FACE”

I look in her face and say,

“Sing as you used to sing

About Love's blossoming”;

But she hints not Yea or Nay.

“Sing, then, that Love's a pain,

If, Dear, you think it so,

Whether it be or no;”

But dumb her lips remain.

I go to a far-off room,

A faint song ghosts my ear;

WHICH song I cannot hear,

But it seems to come from a tomb.