I would curse God if such a thing could be.

"Why, see me stand! why, hear this strong, full breath -
Dare you repeat that silly, base untruth?"
A cry--a fall--the silence known as death
Hushed his wild words. Well, has he found his youth?



UNDER THE SHEET



What a terrible night! Does the Night, I wonder -
The Night, with her black veil down to her feet
Like an ordained nun, know what lies under
That awful, motionless, snow-white sheet?
The winds seem crazed, and, wildly howling,
Over the sad earth blindly go.
Do they and the dark clouds over them scowling,
Do they dream or know?

Why, here in the room, not a week or over -
Tho' it must be a week, not more than one -
(I cannot recken of late or discover
When one day is ended or one begun),
But here in this room we were laughing lightly,
And glad was the measure our two hearts beat;
And the royal face that was smiling so brightly
Lies under that sheet.