Explore "A. M. D" by George MacDonald on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Methinks I see thee, lying straight and low, / Silent and darkling, in thy earthy bed, / The mighty strength in which I trusted, fled, / The long arms lying careless of kiss or blow; / On thy tall form I see the night-robe flow / Down from the pale, composed face -- thy head / Crowned with its own dark curls: though thou wast dead, / They dressed thee as for sleep, and left thee so! / My heart, with cares and questionings oppressed, / Not oft since thou didst leave us turns to thee; / But wait, my brother, till I too am dead, / And thou shalt find that heart more true, more free, / More ready in thy love to take its rest, / Than when we lay together in one bed.