Rooms

Charlotte Mew

1869 to 1928

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Rooms - Track 1

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I remember rooms that have had their part 
     In the steady slowing down of the heart. 
The room in Paris, the room at Geneva, 
The little damp room with the seaweed smell, 
And that ceaseless maddening sound of the tide— 
     Rooms where for good or for ill—things died. 
But there is the room where we (two) lie dead, 
Though every morning we seem to wake and might just as well seem to sleep again 
     As we shall somewhere in the other quieter, dustier bed 
     Out there in the sun—in the rain.