Page:Complete Works of Lewis Carroll.djvu/967

So after many years he came
A wanderer from a distant shore:
The street, the house, were still the same,
But those he sought were there no more :
His burning words, his hopes and fears,
Unheeded fell on alien ears.

Only the children from their play
Would pause the mournful tale to hear,
Shrinking in half -alarm away.
Or, step by step, would venture near
To touch with timid curious hands
That strange wild man from other lands.

He sat beside the busy street,
There, where he last had seen her face;
And thronging memories, bitter-sweet.
Seemed yet to haunt the ancient place:
Her footfall ever floated near:
Her voice was ever in his ear.

He sometimes, as the daylight waned
And evening mists began to roll,.
In half -soliloquy complained
Of that black shadow on his soul,.
And blindly fanned, with cruel care,
The ashes of a vain despair.

The summer fled: the lonely man
Still lingered out the lessening days:
Still, as the night drew on, would scan
Each passing face with closer gaze —
Till, sick at heart, he turned away.
And sighed "She will not come to-day."