Verse > Anthologies > Andrew Macphail, ed. > The Book of Sorrow
Andrew Macphail, comp.  The Book of Sorrow.  1916.
XXVIII. Loneliness
‘She only died last week’
By Katharine Tynan Hinkson (1861–1931)
SHE only died last week, and yet
Suns might have risen and have set
A thousand: May ’s here like a bride,
And it was May when Mary died.
Incredible! We might last week        5
Have kissed her, held her, heard her speak,
Who now has travelled far, so far
Beyond the moon and the day-star.
Since she has gone all Time and Space
Have lost their meanings: Mary’s face        10
Grows dim in distance, like a light
Far down a darkness infinite.
Last week! Why this new grief we have
Is old as Time, old as the grave:
It was and will be: darkness spread        15
Over the world since Mary’s dead.
Last week she died. The lilac bough
Her eyes watched bud is blooming now.
The chestnut ’s lit her lamp since then,
And the lost cuckoo ’s come again.        20
A week ago! O endless space
Since Mary heavenward turned her face!
And still the lilac ’s on the spray
That budded when she went away.

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