Tell me, oh my tranquil friend,
How absence of a day untuned
And brought our song of love to end,
And wakened every sleeping wound.
I go to meet all those that come
From out that land of mystery
Where thou did'st go toward the red sun-rise;
Beneath a tree I sit, and cold and dumb,
Down the long road spy eagerly;
And long I look with fervour on the eyes
Still lustrous with the sight of thee;
I'd kiss those fingers, for thy touch less wearisome;
I'd utter words whose meaning none perceive;
But, dumb, I listen, hear their footfalls reach
The shadows where the aged eve
Holds the black night in leash.