This morning, while we sat in talk <br />Of spring and apple-bloom, <br />Lo! Death stood in the garden walk, <br />And peered into the room. <br /> <br />Your back was turned, you did not see <br />The shadow that he made. <br />He bent his head and looked at me; <br />It made my soul afraid. <br /> <br />The words I had begun to speak <br />Fell broken in the air. <br />You saw the pallor of my cheek, <br />And turned--but none was there. <br /> <br />He came as sudden as a thought, <br />And so departed too. <br />What made him leave his task unwrought? <br />It was the sight of you. <br /> <br />Though Death but seldom turns aside <br />From those he means to take, <br />He would not yet our hearts divide, <br />For love and pity's sake.<br /><br />Robert Fuller Murray<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/death-at-the-window/
