Paler seemed his face, and ashen gray,
And so white his brow—
White and cold as snow—
"Husband! Gods! his soul hath passed away!"
X.
Raise ye up the pile with gloomy shadow—
Heap it with the mournful cypress-bough!—
And they raised the pile upon the meadow,
And they heaped the mournful cypress too;
And they laid the dead