360

Death sets a Thing significant
The Eye had hurried by
Except a perished Creature
Entreat us tenderly

To ponder little Workmanships
In Crayon, or in Wool,
With “This was last Her fingers did”-
Industrious until-

The Thimble weighed too heavy-
The stitches stopped-by themselves-
And then 'twas put among the Dust
Upon the Closet shelves-

A Book I have-a friend gave-
Whose Pencil-here and there-
Had notched the place that pleased Him-
At Rest-His fingers are-

Now-when I read-I read not-
For interrupting Tears-
Obliterate the Etchings
Too Costly for Repairs.