The Lost Friend.
69
But never a token or word
Has he sent to me hither,
Nor wherefore he went have I heard,
Nor wherefore nor whither.
Oh, what was the hour and the day,
The moment you left me,
When you went on your separate way,
Oh, friend, and bereft me?
Sometime and somewhere shall we walk,
Clear of earth, in high places?
Sometime and somewhere shall we talk,
With our hearts in our faces?
And see all the meaning writ clear,
The depth and the sweetness,
Apart from this doubt and this fear,
This sad incompleteness?
