Poems and sonnets of Louise Chandler Moulton / [by Louise Chandler Moulton] [electronic text]

WHAT SHE SAID IN HER TOMB.

NOW, at last, I lie asleep Where no morrows break,— Why take heed to tread so soft?— Fear you lest I wake?

Time there was when I was red As a rose in June With the kisses of your lips,— Ah, they failed me soon.

Now they would not warm my mouth Though they fell like rain: I am marble, dear; and they Marble cannot stain.

Ah, if you had loved me more, Been content to wait, Some time you had found the key To Love's inmost gate.

Why, indeed, should any man Wait for Autumn days, When the present Summer wooes To her rosy ways?

Only,—now I lie here dead; I shall not awake, And you need not tread so soft For my deaf ears' sake.