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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:
  1. Odyle
  2. In Memory of General Grant
  3. The Roman Sentinel
  4. On a Great Warrior
  5. The Vendor of Violets


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