The Unknown Belovèd

John Hall Wheelock

I dreamed I passed a doorway

Where, for a sign of death,

White ribbons one was binding

About a flowery wreath.

What drew me so I know not,

But drawing near I said,

“Kind sir, and can you tell me

Who is it here lies dead?”

Said he, “Your most belovèd

Died here this very day,

That had known twenty Aprils

Had she but lived till May.”

Astonished I made answer,

“Good sir, how say you so!

Here have I no belovèd,

This house I do not know.”

Quoth he, “Who from the world’s end

Was destined unto thee

Here lies, thy true belovèd

Whom thou shalt never see.”

I dreamed I passed a doorway

Where, for a sign of death,

White ribbons one was binding

About a flowery wreath.

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