She made a little shadow-hidden grave,
The day Faith died;
Therein she laid it, heard the clod's sick fall,
And smiled aside --
"If less I ask," tear-blind, she mocked, "I may
Be less denied."

She set a rose to blossom in her hair;
The day faith died --
"Now glad," she said, "and free at last, I do
And life is wide."
But through long night she stared into the dark,
And knew she lied.

The Dead Faith
Fannie Heaslip Lea