Helen Hunt Jackson

Gender: 
Female
  • My body, eh? Friend Death, how now?
      Why all this tedious pomp of writ?
    Thou hast reclaimed it sure and slow
      For half a century, bit by bit.

    In faith thou knowest more to-day
      Than I do, where it can be found!
    This shrivelled lump of...

  • That so much change should come when thou dost go,
    Is mystery that I cannot ravel quite.
    The very house seems dark as when the light
    Of lamps goes out. Each wonted thing doth grow
    So altered, that I wander to and fro
    Bewildered by the most familiar sight,
    And feel...