Page:The Muse in Arms, Osborn (ed), 1917.djvu/270

228 Below men moved innumerable—

Fancy! and yet there was a doubt.

I closed my eyes to shut them out,

And for relief drew deeper breath,

Across my lids Sleep laid his spell;

I flung it off—to sleep was death,

I knew too well.

There came a pleasant breath of air,

Cool—wafted from the stars it seemed.

I looked: now they all brightly gleamed,

Then long I watched, alert, clear-eyed.

No sleeper stirred behind me there

Yet then of some one at my side

I grew aware.

I stared: for he stood there, though dead,

Yet looking, that seemed nothing strange;

About his form there was no change

To see within that little light.

"'Tis I. And yet you heard no tread.

A careless watch you keep to-night,"

He laughing said.

His voice no huskier had grown,

Then while I watched, he sat and told

Me of his love just as of old.

"Give this to her," I heard him say.

I looked, and found I was alone.

Within my hand the locket lay

Cold as a stone.