III. Some Day

Some day when on exultant feet you come
Back through the streets that echo at your tread —
My soul will thrill to hear the throbbing drum,
And yet, perhaps, I’ll sit with drooping head,
Not caring, quite, to meet your steady gaze,
Not daring, quite, to look into your eyes;
Afraid because a weary stretch of days,
Each one a million years, between us lies.

My heart — my heart is ever yours to hold,
And yet, while I have waited here for you,
You have seen faith betrayed, and brave youth sold,
You have seen meadows drenched in bloody dew —
It may have changed you, and your eyes may be
A little harder when they look at me!