Page:The Man Who Died Twice (1924).djvu/71

 But to lie still and hear those coming drums,

Muffled as always in a smoky cloud

Of burning sound that in a moment more

Would burst above him into flaming rain

That once he would have welcomed on his knees,

Unspeakably; and so he might have done

Could he have waited with his inner doors

Unbarred to the celestial messengers

Who may have come and gone a score of times,

Only to find again, and still again,

That he was absent on another journey

Into the dismal valley of the shadow

That was to be his home. But that was over.

They had not found him then. He had not waited.

Failing a willingness to be assured

That in so doing he would have left by now