THE EMPTY ROOM

Out of the storm I hurry in

To find an empty room;

I call and call, but no footfall

Answers across the room:

Vainly your eyes I seek to win,

You are not here! O dear — my dear,

There is no sound and stir of you!

I know not what to do.

I know not what to do or say,

I stand with vacant stare

Upon the brink of pain to think:

“Love, whither dost thou fare?”

An echo answers: “Gone away!”

Your roses red their petals shed

Upon the book of verse I gave,

Like tears down on a grave!