1 86 POEMS.

��XLVIII.

��HPHERE 's been a death in the opposite house

• As lately as to-day.

I know it by the numb look Such houses have alway.

��The neighbors rustle in and out,

The doctor drives away. A window opens like a pod,

Abrupt, mechanically ;

Somebody flings a mattress out,

The children hurry by ; They wonder if It died on that,

I used to when a boy.

The minister goes stiffly in

As if the house were his, And he owned all the mourners now,

And little boys besides ;

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