BY the City Dead-House, by the gate, br As idly sauntering, wending my way from the clangor, br I curious pause--for lo! an outcast form, a poor dead prostitute br brought; br Her corpse they deposit unclaim'd--it lies on the damp brick br pavement; br The divine woman, her body--I see the Body--I look on it alone, br That house once full of passion and beauty--all else I notice not; br Nor stillness so cold, nor running water from faucet, nor odors br morbific impress me; br But the house alone--that wondrous house--that delicate fair house-- br that ruin! br That immortal house, more than all the rows of dwellings ever built! br Or white-domed Capitol itself, with majestic figure surmounted--or br all the old high-spired cathedrals; 10 br That little house alone, more than them all--poor, desperate house! br Fair, fearful wreck! tenement of a Soul! itself a Soul! br Unclaim'd, avoided house! take one breath from my tremulous lips; br Take one tear, dropt aside as I go, for thought of you, br Dead house of love! house of madness and sin, crumbled! crush'd! br House of life--erewhile talking and laughing--but ah, poor house! br dead, even then; br Months, years, an echoing, garnish'd house--but dead, dead, dead.