Excerpt from In the High Hills Once in a dreary place where women die, I watched a work-worn spirit leave the clay, And as the breath came quick, in grotesque way, Her fingers thumbed the air, and one foot high Pressed up and down the coverlet awry. The pale nurse nodded; Every hour each day, So in the mills, poor soul, she earned her pay. I wonder will she like the open sky? O woman form, that God hath made divine, So cunningly contrived of blood and flesh and breath, That you should spin your soul away in twine, And at the end card wool with waiting Death! Will such as you within the silent tomb, Find only this, a respite from the loom? About the Publisher Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.com This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.