LIII
Returning
I years had been from home,And now, before the door,I dared not open, lest a faceI never saw before
Stare vacant into mineAnd ask my business there.My business,—just a life I left,Was such still dwelling there?
I fumbled at my nerve,I scanned the windows near;The silence like an ocean rolled,And broke against my ear.
I laughed a wooden laughThat I could fear a door,Who danger and the dead had faced,But never quaked before.
I fitted to the latchMy hand, with trembling care,Lest back the awful door should spring,And leave me standing there.
I moved my fingers offAs cautiously as glass,And held my ears, and like a thiefFled gasping from the house.