“There's a footstep coming: look out and see.” — “The leaves are falling, the wind is calling; No one cometh across the lea.” — “There's a footstep coming: O sister, look.” —
“The ripple flashes, the white foam dashes; No one cometh across the brook.” — “But he promised that he would come: To-night, to-morrow, in joy or sorrow,
He must keep his word, and must come home. “For he promised that he would come: His word was given; from earth or heaven, He must keep his word, and must come home.
“Go to sleep, my sweet sister Jane; You can slumber, who need not number Hour after hour, in doubt and pain. “I shall sit here awhile, and watch;
Listening, hoping, for one hand groping In deep shadow to find the latch.” After the dark, and before the light, One lay sleeping; and one sat weeping,
Who had watched and wept the weary night. After the night, and before the day, One lay sleeping; and one sat weeping,— Watching, weeping for one away.
There came a footstep climbing the stair; Some one standing out on the landing Shook the door like a puff of air,— Shook the door, and in he passed.
Did he enter? In the room centre Stood her husband: the door shut fast. “O Robin, but you are cold,— Chilled with the night-dew: so lily-white you
Look like a stray lamb from our fold. “O Robin, but you are late: Come and sit near me,— sit here and cheer me.” — ( Blue the flame burnt in the grate. )
“Lay not down your head on my breast: I cannot hold you, kind wife, nor fold you In the shelter that you love best. “Feel not after my clasping hand:
I am but a shadow, come from the meadow Where many lie, but no tree can stand. “We are trees which have shed their leaves: Our heads lie low there, but no tears flow there;
Only I grieve for my wife who grieves. “I could rest if you would not moan Hour after hour; I have no power To shut my ears where I lie alone.
“I could rest if you would not cry; But there's no sleeping while you sit weeping,— Watching, weeping so bitterly.” — “Woe's me! woe's me! for this I have heard.
O, night of sorrow!— O, black to-morrow! Is it thus that you keep your word? “O you who used so to shelter me Warm from the least wind,— why, now the east wind
Is warmer than you, whom I quake to see. “O my husband of flesh and blood, For whom my mother I left, and brother, And all I had, accounting it good,
“What do you do there, underground, In the dark hollow? I'm fain to follow. What do you do there?— what have you found?” — “What I do there I must not tell;
But I have plenty. Kind wife, content ye: It is well with us,— it is well. “Tender hand hath made our nest; Our fear is ended, our hope is blended
With present pleasure, and we have rest.” — “O, but Robin, I'm fain to come, If your present days are so pleasant; For my days are so wearisome.
“Yet I'll dry my tears for your sake: Why should I tease you, who cannot please you Any more with the pains I take?”
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