The Summons

Straight to his death he went, A smile on his lips, All his life's joy unspent, Into eclipse. The song of the shell he heard Cleaving the dark, As though 'twere the song of a bird, Linnet or lark. Why would he go so fast Out to the dead, All in a heavenly haste Not to be stayed? What did he see afar That drew him after? Light from a merry star, Singing and laughter? Nay, but a face was his Only in dreams, Only in dreams of bliss In the star-gleams. Nay, but a face that watched Long years to see Who came by the door unlatched, If it were he. What was the voice before That lured him on? 'Oh, thou long-hungered for, My son, my son!' Lo, he hath heard, hath seen, He hath slipped over Where the great days begin For friend and lover.