I dreamed I passed a doorway <br /> Where, for a sign of death, <br />White ribbons one was binding <br /> About a flowery wreath. <br /> <br />What drew me so I know not, <br /> But drawing near I said, <br />"Kind sir, and can you tell me <br /> Who is it here lies dead?" <br /> <br />Said he, "Your most beloved <br /> Died here this very day, <br />That had known twenty Aprils <br /> Had she but lived till May." <br /> <br />Astonished I made answer, <br /> "Good sir, how say you so! <br />Here have I no beloved, <br /> This house I do not know." <br /> <br />Quoth he, "Who from the world's end <br /> Was destined unto thee <br />Here lies, thy true beloved <br /> Whom thou shalt never see." <br /> <br />I dreamed I passed a doorway <br /> Where, for a sign of death, <br />White ribbons one was binding <br /> About a flowery wreath.<br /><br />John Hall Wheelock<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-unknown-beloved-2/
