For evermore.
As you work, your heart must watch,
For the door is on the latch
In your room,
And it may be in the morning
I will come.”
He read on with a strange, breathless interest the next two pages of poem, then, with a sudden sense of hush upon him, he went carefully over the concluding lines:
“So I am watching quietly
Every day.
Whenever the sun shines brightly,