And so it was that, sitting ever thus <br />Dumb to all speech of those that knew her woe <br />And bare with her sole sorrow in the house, <br />And ever watching with sad eyes below <br />To see if any came with help for her <br />Whom none could help with pity or with pride <br />Or word of patience, ere her time was near, <br />She bore her yet unliving child and died. <br />There was great mourning for her in those days <br />Because of her high lineage and fair youth. <br />Men knowing her spoke nobly in her praise, <br />Or knowing not yet mourned for very ruth. <br />And all Rome wept for her, and far and wide <br />The fame was noised how of her love she died.<br /><br />Wilfrid Scawen Blunt<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/natalia-s-resurrection-sonnet-viii/
