THE EMPTY ROOM

Out of the storm I hurry in To find an empty room; I call and call, but no footfall Answers across the room: Vainly your eyes I seek to win, You are not here! O dear—my dear, There is no sound and stir of you! I know not what to do.

I know not what to do or say, I stand with vacant stare Upon the brink of pain to think: "Love, whither dost thou fare?" An echo answers: "Gone away!" Your roses red their petals shed Upon the book of verse I gave, Like tears down on a grave!