Page:Roden Noel - A Little Child's Monument - 1881.pdf/23

 Of sounding mystery, In the ghostly forest Of colossal pillars Grows a dread procession: Tramp! tramp! tramp! Phantoms vast, sepulchral, With dim downward eyes, Move where yawns a dreary Fathomless abyss. What do they bear? they bear him, My All, my Heart, my Heaven! They let him fall therein! Fall! fall! fall! Fall ever in the abyss! And my soul wails over, Yearns to him in vain! Cruel world! O cruel spirit Of the world, with ne'er a heart! All in vain I moan imploring; Sleep! sleep! sleep!

II.

In the grey cathedral Dawn red rays of morning, And a sweet low music Lifts me from the grave. My dead pulses flutter,