"The haughty eye closes, the white teeth are set, And the dew-damps of pain on the wrung brow are wet: The slight frame is writhing—she sinks to the ground; She yields to no struggle, she utters no sound— The small hands are clenched—they relax—it is past, And her aunt kneels beside her—kneels weeping at last."
January 1, 1970
https://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Fisher's_Drawing_Room_Scrap_Books_1832-39