⁠OH! King who hast the key
⁠Of that dark room,
The last which prisons us but held not Thee,
⁠Thou know'st its gloom.
⁠Dost Thou a little love this one
⁠Shut in to-night,
⁠Young and so piteously alone,
⁠Cold—out of sight?
⁠Thou know'st how hard and bare
The pillow of that new-made narrow bed,
⁠Then leave not there
⁠So dear a head!