How can I tell it? I saw a thing That I did not find strange In my visioning. A flawless tall mirror, Glass dim and green; And a tall, dim figure There was between: Pale, so pale her face As veils of thin water; And her eyes water-pale, And the moonlight on her; And she was dying, dying; She combed her long hair, And the crimson blood ran In the fine gold there. She was dying, dying ... And in her perfect eye No terror lurked; nor pity That she should so die. |