I remember rooms that have had their part
In the steady slowing down of the heart.
The room in Paris, the room at Geneva,
The little damp room with the seaweed smell,
And that ceaseless maddening sound of the tide—
Rooms where for good or for ill—things died.
But there is the room where we (two) lie dead,
Though every morning we seem to wake and might just as well seem to sleep again
As we shall somewhere in the other quieter, dustier bed
The tone is ominous. The fluctuations of fortune are invoked in the phrase ‘for good or for ill’. Another  caesura  precedes the sinister ‘things died’. It is known that the poet had a tragic life. Young members of her family died or were committed to a mental asylum. This could be a literal reference to her siblings. But love, friendship, hope can also die. The imprecise ‘things’ leave this open. The reader can interpret this as they wish.
Rooms