Edvard Munch Gallery Edouard Manet Gallery Edmund Dulac Gallery Gustav Klimt Gallery Jessie Willcox Smith Gallery
First Lines of Phoebe Carey
An urn within her clasped hands, Dead! yet there comes no shriek, on tear, -- Dying, still slowly dying, Earth to earth, and dust to dust: He knows that I love him; I am dreaming o'er a poem I am glad her life is over, I have said I would not meet him; I said that they were valueless, -- I'm glad youdon't love him,In the moonlight of the Spring time, In the same beaten channel still have run Like the music deep and solemn Memories on memories! to my soul again O To be back in the beautiful shadow She has slept since first the firelight Thou hast sung of love's confession Thou marvellest why so oft her eyes Unlock the still home of the dead We tried to win her from her grief, Where leaves by bitter winds are heaped Yes, my lips to-night have spoken Yes, sailor, when the angry deep