The Poetry Corner

Her Passing

By William Henry Drummond

The beauty and the life Of lifes and beautys fairest paragon O tears! O grief! hung at a feeble thread To which pale Atropos had set her knife; The soul with many a groan Had left each outward part, And now did take his last leave of the heart: Naught else did want, save death, evn to be dead; When the afflicted band about her bed, Seeing so fair him come in lips, cheeks, eyes, Cried, Ah! and can Death enter Paradise?