Page:Captain Craig; a book of poems.djvu/173



I never make him look at me again? I look at him, I look my life at him, I tell him all I know the way to tell, But there he stays the same.

Shall I never make him speak one word to me? Shall I never make him say enough to show My heart if he be glad? Be glad? . . . ah! God, Why did they bring me back?

I wonder, if I go to him again, If I take him by those two cold hands again, Shall I get one look of him at last, or feel One sign—or anything?

Or will he still sit there in the same way, Without an answer for me from his lips, Or from his eyes,—or even with a touch Of his hand on my hand? . ..