The Little White Hearse
Somebody?s baby was buried to-day ?
The empty white hearse from the grave rumbled back,
And the morning somehow seemed less smiling and gay
As I paused on the sidewalk while it crossed on its way,
And a shadow seemed drawn o?er the sun?s golden track.
Somebody?s baby was laid out to rest,
White as a snowdrop, and fair to behold,
And the soft little hands were crossed over the breast,
And those hands and the lips and the eyelids were pressed
With kisses as hot as the eyelids were cold.
Somebody saw it go out of her sight,
Under the coffin lid ? out through the door;
Somebody finds only darkness and blight
All through the glory of summer-sun light;
Somebody?s baby will waken no more.
Somebody?s sorrow is making me weep:
I know not her name, but I echo her cry,
For the dearly bought baby she longed so to keep,
The baby that rode to its long-lasting sleep
In the little white hearse that went rumbling by.
I know not her name, but her sorrow I know;
While I paused on the crossing I lived it once more,
And back to my heart surged that river of woe
That but in the breast of a mother can flow;
For the little white hearse has been, too, at my door.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Vous avez aimé cette poésie ? faites la connaître !
D'autres poésies de Ella Wheeler Wilcox
"It Might Have Been"
We will be what we could be. Do not say,
"It might have...
A Baby In The House
I knew that a baby was hid in that house,
Though I saw...
A Fallen Leaf
A trusting little leaf of green,
A bold audacious frost;...
A Fatal Impress
A little leaf just in the forest's edge,
All summer long,...
A Golden Day
The subtle beauty of this day
Hangs o'er me like a fairy...
A Grey Mood
As we hurry away to the end, my friend,
Of this sad...
A Holiday
The Wife
The house is like a garden,
The children...
A Leaf
Somebody said, in the crowd, last eve,
That you were...
A Lovers' Quarrel
We two were lovers, the Sea and I;
We plighted our troth...
A Maiden To Her Mirror
He said he loved me! Then he called my hair
Silk threads...
Précédentes poésies
Women
My three sisters are sitting
on rocks of black...
Victory
Something spreading underground won't speak to us
under...
Two Songs
1.
Sex, as they harshly call it,
I fell into...
Stepping Backward
Good-by to you whom I shall see tomorrow,
Next year and...
Snapshots of a Daughter-in-Law
1
You, once a belle in Shreveport,
with...
