Page:The Collected Poems of Dora Sigerson Shorter.djvu/181



from a burial; Hush! let me be: I have put away my love, Fair exceedingly.

Ah! the little gold curls Soft about his face; Now my heart is sorrowful For his sleeping-place.

But he would pursue me, Never let me rest; Till I turned and slew him. Knowing it were best.

Laid his bow beside him, Shovelled in the clay; To-morrow I'll forget him; Let me weep to-day.