(at the silent housem ) Are you then weeping with face averted? Is your heart restless and the streets know the weight of your feet? Is the shade down, the blind drawn in a dark house? I have knocked at your door listening for your step; I have come with a flower to fill your hands -- Are they trembling? I gladly stoop and pick them up, the last chrysanthemums to put them on your table (yes, I shall find a glass) and on rising I smile into your dear face -- Won't you let me kiss you in love's blessing?

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