I know his step, his ring, his knock,
I hear him, too, explain,
With emphasis my nerves that shock,
That he "won't call again!"
I know that bodes a coming storm—
A summons looms a-head!
I follow his retreating form,
And note his stealthy tread!
Some grace to beg, implore, beseech,
'Twere vain! Let him depart!