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James Whitcomb Riley - The Rival

I so loved once, when Death came by I hid 
   Away my face, 
And all my sweetheart's tresses she undid 
   To make my hiding-place. 

The dread shade passed me thus unheeding; and 
   I turned me then 
To calm my love -- kiss down her shielding hand 
   And comfort her again. 

And lo! she answered not: and she did sit 
   All fixedly, 
With her fair face and the sweet smile of it, 
   In love with Death, not me. 

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Poet: James Whitcomb Riley
Poem: The Rival
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