'Harry! Harry! Harry!' was all my cry,
As I stood alone at the open door;
And the night heard me--and so did the sky,
And the wind and the earth--and nothing more.
I turn'd from the door with a sad surprise:
I could call for my love and call in vain;
And I met that horrid policeman's eyes,
Keenly and quietly watching my pain.
He suddenly called for his men to come;
So they made their appearance one by one,
And he said, 'The gen'leman's _not_ been 'ome,
And she 'asn't a notion what he's done.
And he _won't_ come now, you may swear to that;
I rayther think he'll look arter a ship:
I rayther suspect we've been rayther flat,
And the gen'leman's given us the slip!'
With a regular march they trod the ground,
Suddenly left me alone in the hall;
In the dreadful silence that settled round,
Again I _knew_ I was dreaming it all?
A voice that can banish my sleep I know;
I know a voice that could wake me if dead;
A loud cheery voice, but it might speak low,
And 'May, little May,' it whispering said.
I stand like a statue of silence. Hush!
I listen not with my ears, but my soul;
And I feel the sudden accustom'd blush,
As again the whisper reaches its goal.
I open the window. 'Mid blossom and bough
Of clustering laurel and Daphne white,
I am showering kisses on Harry's brow,
And dropping the first tears I've shed to-night.
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