Her voice is stopped, her joints forget to bow,
Her eyes are mad, that they have wept till now.
* * * * * *
"She looks upon his lips, and they are pale;
She takes him by the hand, that is cold;
She whispers in his ears a heavy tale,
As if they heard the woeful words she told:
She lifts the coffer-lids that close his eyes,
Where, lo! two lamps, burnt out, in darkness lies."
Shakspere.