After by Robert Browning — Read

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Take the cloak from his face, and at first / Let the corpse do its worst!

How he lies in his rights of a man! / Death has done all death can. / And, absorbed in the new life he leads, / He recks not, he heeds / Nor his wrong nor my vengeance; both strike / On his senses alike, / And are lost in the solemn and strange / Surprise of the change.

Ha, what avails death to erase / His offence, my disgrace? / I would we were boys as of old / In the field, by the fold: / His outrage, God's patience, man's scorn / Were so easily borne!

I stand here now, he lies in his place: / Cover the face!

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