| |
| THE WIND blew keenly from the Western sea, | |
| And drove the dead leaves slanting from the tree— | |
| Vanity of vanities, the Preacher saith— | |
| Heaping them up before her Father’s door | |
| When I saw her whom I shall see no more— | 5 |
| We cannot bribe thee, Death. | |
| |
| She went abroad the falling leaves among, | |
| She saw the merry season fade, and sung— | |
| Vanity of vanities the Preacher saith— | |
| Freely she wandered in the leafless wood, | 10 |
| And said that all was fresh, and fair, and good— | |
| She knew thee not, O Death. | |
| |
| She bound her shining hair across her brow, | |
| She went into the garden fading now; | |
| Vanity of vanities the Preacher saith— | 15 |
| And if one sighed to think that it was sere, | |
| She smiled to think that it would bloom next year! | |
| She feared thee not, O Death. | |
| |
| Blooming she came back to the cheerful room | |
| With all the fairer flowers yet in bloom— | 20 |
| Vanity of vanities the Preacher saith— | |
| A fragrant knot for each of us she tied, | |
| And placed the fairest at her Father’s side— | |
| She cannot charm thee, Death. | |
| |
| Her pleasant smile spread sunshine upon all; | 25 |
| We heard her sweet clear laughter in the Hall— | |
| Vanity of vanities the Preacher saith— | |
| We heard her sometimes after evening prayer, | |
| As she went singing softly up the stair— | |
| No voice can charm thee, Death. | 30 |
| |
| Where is the pleasant smile, the laughter kind, | |
| That made sweet music of the winter wind? | |
| Vanity of vanities the Preacher saith— | |
| Idly they gaze upon her empty place, | |
| Her kiss hath faded from her Father’s face— | 35 |
| She is with thee, O Death. | |
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