Across the empty street,

And saw Death softly watching her

In the sunshine pale and sweet.

His was a long lean sallow face,

He sat with half-shut eyes,

Like an old sailor in a ship

Becalmed 'neath tropic skies.

Beside him in the dust he'd set

His staff and shady hat;

These, peeping small, Louisa saw

Quite clearly where she sat—

The thinness of his coal-black locks,

His hands so long and lean

They scarcely seemed to grasp at all

The keys that hung between:

[Pg 15]

Both were of gold, but one was small,

And with this last did he

Wag in the air, as if to say,

'Come hither, child, to me!'

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