Page:Maud, and other poems.djvu/113

Rh I know not whether he came in the Hanover ship, But I know that he lies and listens mute In an ancient mansion's crannies and holes: Arsenic, arsenic, sir, would do it, Except that now we poison our babes, poor souls! It is all used up for that.

Tell him now: she is standing here at my head; Not beautiful now, not even kind; He may take her now; for she never speaks her mind, But is ever the one thing silent here. She is not of us, as I divine; She comes from another stiller world of the dead, Stiller, not fairer than mine.

But I know where a garden grows, Fairer than aught in the world beside,