The Bridge Of Sighs.

"Drown'd! drown'd!" - Hamlet.     One more Unfortunate,     Weary of breath,     Rashly importunate,     Gone to her death!     Take her up tenderly,     Lift her with care;     Fashion'd so slenderly,     Young, and so fair!     Look at her garments     Clinging like cerements;     Whilst the wave constantly     Drips from her clothing;     Take her up instantly,     Loving, not loathing. -     Touch her not scornfully;     Think of her mournfully,     Gently and humanly;     Not of the stains of her,     All that remains of her     Now is pure womanly.     Make no deep scrutiny     Into her mutiny     Bash and undutiful:     Past all dishonor,     Death has left on her     Only the beautiful.     Still, for all slips of hers,     One of Eve's family -     Wipe those poor lips of hers     Oozing so clammily.     Loop up her tresses     Escaped from the comb,     Her fair auburn tresses;     Whilst wonderment guesses     Where was her home?     Who was her father?     Who was her mother?     Had she a sister?     Had she a brother?     Or was there a dearer one     Still, and a nearer one     Yet, than all other?     Alas! for the rarity     Of Christian charity     Under the sun!     Oh! it was pitiful!     Near a whole city full,     Home she had none.     Sisterly, brotherly,     Fatherly, motherly     Feelings had changed:     Love, by harsh evidence,     Thrown from its eminence;     Even God's providence     Seeming estranged.     Where the lamps quiver     So far in the river,     With many a light     From window and casement,     From garret to basement,     She stood, with amazement,     Houseless by night.     The bleak wind of March     Made her tremble and shiver;     But not the dark arch,     Or the black flowing river:     Mad from life's history,     Glad to death's mystery,     Swit to be hurl'd -     Any where, any where     Out of the world!     In she plunged boldly,     No matter how coldly     The rough river ran, -     Over the brink of it,     Picture it - think of it,     Dissolute Man!     Lave in it, drink of it,     Then, if you can!     Take her up tenderly,     Lift her with care;     Fashion'd so slenderly,     Young, and so fair!     Ere her limbs frigidly     Stiffen too rigidly,     Decently, - kindly, -     Smooth, and compose them;     And her eyes, close them,     Staring so blindly!     Dreadfully staring     Thro' muddy impurity,     As when with the daring     Last look of despairing     Fix'd on futurity.     Perishing gloomily,     Spurr'd by contumely,     Cold inhumanity,     Burning insanity,     Into her rest. -     Cross her hands humbly,     As if praying dumbly,     Over her breast!     Owning her weakness,     Her evil behavior,     And leaving, with meekness,     Her sins to her Saviour!