Explore "The Room's Width" by Elizabeth Stuart Phelps Ward on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
I think if I should cross the room, / Far as fear; / Should stand beside you like a thought -- / Touch you, Dear!
Like a fancy. To your sad heart / It would seem / That my vision passed and prayed you, / Or my dream.
Then you would look with lonely eyes -- / Lift your head -- / And you would stir, and sigh, and say -- / "She is dead."
Baffled by death and love, I lean / Through the gloom. / O Lord of life! am I forbid / To cross the room?