Poems (Curwen)/Thoughts of the Absent

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Thoughts of the Absent.
Shadows of the night are falling,  Falling over land and sea, And my wandering thoughts will stray,  Dearest, unto thee, Wondering in what scenes you roam, Far from love, and far from home.
Ah! we never miss our loved ones  Till they're far away, Where the voice no more can reach them,  When they've left the well-known way: Passed our sight, beyond recall, Then we know they're all in all.
Then we listen for the footsteps— Footsteps that we know can't come; Yet forgetting, think it is them  Coming, just as usual, home; How our throbbing hearts will beat At the sound of other feet.
Ah! how many watch and wait,  Ready with sweet words of greeting, And with joy anticipate  All the rapture of the meeting, All unconscious of the sorrow That awaits them on the morrow.
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Dumb the lips they long to hear,  Cold the hands they yearn to press, All unmindful of the tear,  Heedless of the fond caress: Oh! the anguish and the pain Of those sad hearts who watch in vain.
Hark! is that a step I hear?  Baby claps her hands with glee, Lisps the name to him so dear,— "Dadda"—yes, 'tis he! 'tis he! Ah! thank God! my watch is o'er, Father's safe at home once more.

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