FAITH

Through the long night, the deathlong night,

Along the dark and haunted way,

I knew your hidden face was bright —

More bright than any day.

And when the faint, insistent moan

Rose from some weed-grown wayside grave,

I said, “I do not walk alone;

’ Tis easy to be brave.”

I never turned to speak with you,

For all the way was dark and long,

But all the shadows’ menace through

Your silence was my song.

I never sought to take your hand,

For all the way was long and rough;

I taught my soul to understand

That love was strength enough.

Then, suddenly, the ghosts drew near,

A ghastly, gliding, tomb-white band;

I called aloud for you to hear,

My hand besought your hand.

No voice, no touch — the thin ghosts glide

Where in my dream I dreamed you were —

Night, night, you are not by my side,

You never have been there!