XLVIII. There's been a death in the opposite house

THERE's been a death in the opposite house
        As lately as to-day.
I know it by the numb look
        Such houses have alway.

The neighbors rustle in and out,
        The doctor drives away.
A window opens like a pod,
        Abrupt, mechanically;

Somebody flings a mattress out, --
        The children hurry by;
They wonder if It died on that, --
        I used to when a boy.

The minister goes stiffly in
        As if the house were his,
And he owned all the mourners now,
        And little boys besides;

And then the milliner, and the man
        Of the appalling trade,
To take the measure of the house.
        There'll be that dark parade

Of tassels and of coaches soon;
        It's easy as a sign, --
The intuition of the news
        In just a country town.