It was about the midnight hour,
I heard the wind go by:
I heard on the wet mould the shower
Beat, and the bare trees sigh.
I heard your hand upon the pane,
Your footstep at the door,
A moment lingering in the rain,
And then . . . no more!
One moment . . . then the door was wide,
Yet none there was to hark,
Nor any answer when I cried
Your name across the dark.
There was none there . . . although I knew
Your footstep, ah, so plain! —
Only the weary wind that blew,
And the driving rain!
Was there no sign you could have brought,
No word that you might say,
To tell what thing it was you sought,
And you so far away?
They say I heard but the rain fall
And the wind beat . . . yet I,
Should I not know your step, though all
The world went by?
Notes
From SMALL CRAFT: Sailor Ballads and Chantys, edited by Cicely Fox Smith, published by George H. Doran Co., New York, US, © 1919, pp. 115-116. First published in SONGS OF SAIL, © 1914.
The first poem in a set called "Songs of Home" published shortly after the poet's return to England after 9 years in British Columbia and as World War 1 was just beginning. They seem to represent an attempt by the poet to reconcile where she grew up with what she had experienced since she left England in 1904.
Charley Noble
Leave a guest comment (subject to review)
Comments
-
Excellent
This is a fine, fine poem!
Adding your comment:
