Analysis of The City Dead-House

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