The stars whirled overhead

The grass, green and dewy came closer

Until blackness spread, void and empty

But welcome, oh yes, far more welcome

Than the relentless grief

Tearing pain, aching knowledge

Of his death, of his not being.

Embracing this numbing blackness

Was far better than the drowning desolation

That held her in its grasp

While thousands crowded her in concern

For at least it shewed her as she was in truth now

Alone !