Page:Collected poems vol 1 de la mare.djvu/196

 HO knocks?" "I, who was beautiful,
 * Beyond all dreams to restore,

I, from the roots of the dark thorn am hither.
 * And knock on the door."

"Who speaks?" "I — once was my speech
 * Sweet as the bird's on the air,

When echo lurks by the waters to heed;
 * 'Tis I speak thee fair."

"Dark is the hour! " "Ay, and cold."
 * "Lone is my house." "Ah, but mine?"

"Sight, touch, lips, eyes yearned in vain."
 * "Long dead these to thine . . ."

Silence. Still faint on the porch
 * Brake the flames of the stars.

In gloom groped a hope-wearied hand
 * Over keys, bolts, and bars.

A face peered. All the grey night
 * In chaos of vacancy shone;

Nought but vast sorrow was there —-
 * The sweet cheat gone.

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