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Poem by Henry Abbey An Enquiry of the Sexton "Sexton, was she here to-day Who has met me oft before? Did she come and go away, Tired of waiting any more? For I fancy some mistake Has occurred about the time; Yet, the hour has not yet passed; Hark! the bells begin to chime. "In her hair two roses woo, One a white, and one a red. Azure silk her dress might be, Though she oft wears white instead. Here, beside this marble cross, Oft she kneels in silent prayer; Tell me, has she been to-day, In the church-yard anywhere?" "No, the lady that you seek Has not passed the gate to-day: I've been digging at a grave, And if she had come this way I'd have seen her from my work. She may come to meet you yet. I remember well her looks. Names, not faces, I forget." Henry Abbey Henry Abbey's other poems: 1218 Views |
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