Chapter XVIII

And I have lost you, so the voices say--
Voices that taunt, deride my silent pain;
Voices that fall incessant, like the rain
Throughout this dim and memory-haunted day!
Dear Love, come back, resume your ancient sway
For my strong pleading! Or is it in vain
That I beneath the stars all night have lain
Prone upon earth, clay crying unto clay?

No answer.... O thou God-vacated sky,
Thunder upon my head the riving flame!
There is no more for me to do but die!
Or else for One, whom now I dare not name,
At crossroads of the world a watch to keep
With those who thither come, a while to weep.