The House Of Tears

When in the old years I had dreams of thee Thy dark walls stood in a most barren place; And he within (was his wan face my face?) Wandered alone and wept continually. There was no bird to hear, nor sun to see, Nor green thing growing; nor for his release Came sleep; neither forgetfulness nor peace: Whereby I knew that none had sinned as he. To-day I met him where white lilies gleam; Across our path we watched the sparrows flit; Until--the sunlight strong in our dry eyes-- He paused with me beside a green-edged stream, Moaning, "I know, where its young waters rise, Remembering, one leaneth over it."