MEMORIES.

Here where LOVE lies perished,

Look not in upon the dead;

Lest the shadowy curtains, shaken

In my Heart's dark chamber, waken

Ghosts, beneath whose garb of sorrow

Whilom gladness bows his head:

When you come at morn to-morrow,

Look not in upon the dead,

Here where LOVE lies perished.

Here where LOVE lies cold interred,

Let no syllable be heard;

Lest the hollow echoes, housing

In my Soul's deep tomb, arousing

Wake a voice of woe, once laughter

Claimed and clothed in joy's own word:

When you come at dusk or after,

Let no syllable be heard,

Here where LOVE lies cold interred.