XXXVI
Till the End
I should not dare to leave my friend,Because—because if he should dieWhile I was gone, and I—too late—Should reach the heart that wanted me;
If I should disappoint the eyesThat hunted, hunted so, to see,And could not bear to shut untilThey “noticed” me—they noticed me;
If I should stab the patient faithSo sure I ‘d come—so sure I ‘d come,It listening, listening, went to sleepTelling my tardy name,—
My heart would wish it broke before,Since breaking then, since breaking then,Were useless as next morning’s sun,Where midnight frosts had lain!