224 POEMS,

��XXXVI. TILL THE END.

T SHOULD not dare to leave my friend,

Because because if he should die While I was gone, and I too late Should reach the heart that wanted me ;

If I should disappoint the eyes

That hunted, hunted so, to see,

And could not bear to shut until

They " noticed " me they noticed me ;

If I should stab the patient faith So sure I 'd come so sure I 'd come, It listening, listening, went to sleep Telling my tardy name,

My heart would wish it broke before, Since breaking then, since breaking then, Were useless as next morning's sun, Where midnight frosts had lain !

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