My palm brim up and overflow
With blood that, beads of oozing glow,
Dripped, drop by drop, upon the snow,
Like holly-berries on the snow.
Then something darkly seemed to melt
Within me, and I heard a sigh
So like a moan, 'twas as if years
Of anguish bore it; and the sky
Swam near me as when seen through tears—
And she was gone.... In ghostly gloom