Benediction They should like to be quiet, motionless no more alive than before. But now the royal ghosts are calling the empty theatres their thieves, harlots their garlands. Is it the toil in spirit or sounds of open tombs that after time one becomes numb & so the hour no longer comes. Last night her body was carried to a small wagon & a death mask -- cask of her face & hands were made. Gone are the guests bones of those who have not stood alone. Buried early morning & involuntary exile may their remains cease to be released & her name left behind as both signature & sign. next