If I Should Learn, In Some Quite Casual Way

If I should learn, in some quite casual way,  

   That you were gone, not to return again—  

Read from the back-page of a paper, say,  

   Held by a neighbor in a subway train,  

How at the corner of this avenue        

   And such a street (so are the papers filled)  

A hurrying man—who happened to be you—  

   At noon to-day had happened to be killed,  

I should not cry aloud—I could not cry  

   Aloud, or wring my hands in such a place—        

I should but watch the station lights rush by  

   With a more careful interest on my face,  

Or raise my eyes and read with greater care  

Where to store furs and how to treat the hair.