Poems (Procter)/Returned—"Missing"

by Adelaide Anne Procter

RETURNED—"MISSING." (FIVE YEARS AFTER.)

ES, I was sad and anxious, But now, dear, I am gay;I know that it is wisest To put all hope away:—Thank God that I have done so, And can be calm to-day!

For hope deferred—you know it— Once made my heart so sick:Now, I expect no longer; It is but the old trickOf hope, that makes me tremble, And makes my heart beat quick.

All day I sit here calmly; Not as I did before,Watching for one whose footstep Comes never, never more. . . .Hush! was that some one passing, Who paused beside the door?

For years I hung on chances, Longing for just one word; At last I feel it:—silence Will never more be stirred . . .Tell me once more that rumor You fancied you had heard.

Life has more things to dwell on. Than just one useless pain,Useless and past forever; But noble things remain,And wait us all: . . . you too, dear, Do you think hope quite vain?

All others have forgotten, 'T is right I should forget,Nor live on a keen longing Which shadows forth regret: . . .Are not the letters coming? The sun is almost set.

Now that my restless legion Of hopes and fears is fled,Reading is joy and comfort. . . . . . . This very day I read,O, such a strange returning Of one whom all thought dead?

Not that I dream or fancy, You know all that is past;Earth has no hope to give me, And yet—Time flies so fastThat all but the impossible Might be brought back at last.