THE KNOCK
Did you knock at the door, my Dear?
Knock, and I fail to hear?
Was I so eager to bind my hair,
And fasten a flower to make me fair;
Study a book that I might be wise,
Or make you a song for a sweet surprise?
Mixing a cake,
Saying a prayer,
All for your sake,
All for your care—
So busily happy I did not hear
When you knocked, my Dear!
Will you pass to another door,
And knock at my own no more?
Shall I listen and wait and long,
No more laughter, no more song?
But still with the faded rose in my hair,
Still on my lips the tremulous prayer;
Till the fire goes out
To a single spark.
Ending the doubt;
And in empty dark,
Shall I sit and hear
The knock, knock, knock of my heart? My Dear!