Open Speech

Good friend of mine, you feel with me— Your blood grows hot by sympathy With something that I say or do; Then speak—I want a word from you. Let not the silence wrap you round While you are living over-ground. They say that earthly years are few; Then speak—I want a word from you. Perhaps I pass you in the street, And when our eyes a moment meet, I wonder are you wishing too; Then speak—I want a word from you. Are you, too, longing for a sign, Yet fear to stretch a hand for mine? What other am I writing to? Then speak—I want a word from you. Some way our thoughts together run, Since both lift brow toward the sun Beneath the self-same vault of blue; Then speak—I want a word from you.