The Rambling Sailor/Absence

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ABSENCE
SOMETIMES I know the wayYou walk, up over the bay;It is a wind from that far seaThat blows the fragrance of your hair to me.
Or in this garden when the breeze  Touches my treesTo stir their dreaming shadows on the grass  I see you pass.
In sheltered beds, the heart of every rose  Serenely sleeps to-night. As shut as thoseYour guarded heart; as safe as they from the beat, beatOf hooves that tread dropped roses in the street.
    Turn never again     On these eyes blind with a wild rain  Your eyes; they were stars to me.—    There are things stars may not see.
But call, call, and though Christ stands  Still with scarred handsOver my mouth, I must answer. So,I will come—He shall let me go!


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