Page:The poems of Emma Lazarus volume 1.djvu/232

218 hast thou done to this dear friend of mine, Thou cold, white, silent Stranger ? From my hand Her clasped hand slips to meet the grasp of thine ; Her eyes that flamed with love, at thy command Stare stone-blank on blank air ; her frozen heart Forgets my presence. Teach me who thou art, Vague shadow sliding twixt my friend and me. I never saw thee till this sudden hour. What secret door gave entrance unto thee? What power is thine, o’ermastering Love’s own power?

closer, kind, white, long-familiar friend, Embrace me, fold me to thy broad, soft breast. Life has grown strange and cold, but thou dost bend Mild eyes of blessing wooing to my rest. So often hast thou come, and from my side So many hast thou lured, I only bide Thy beck, to follow glad thy steps divine. Thy world is peopled for me; this world’s bare.