Faith Ii

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!