Again-his voice is at the door-
I feel the old Degree-
I hear him ask the servant
For such an one-as me-

I take a flower-as I go-
My face to justify-
He never saw me-in this life-
I might surprise his eye!

I cross the Hall with mingled steps-
I-silent-pass the door-
I look on all this world contains-
Just his face-nothing more!

We talk in careless-and it toss-
A kind of plummet strain-
The other's one-had been-

We walk-I leave my Dog-at home-
A tender-thoughtful Moon-
Goes with us-just a little way-
And-then-we are alone-

Alone-if Angels are “alone”-
First time they try the sky!
Alone-if those “veiled faces”-be-
We cannot count-on High!

I'd give-to live that hour-again-
The purple-in my Vein-
But He must count the drops-himself-
My price for every stain!