35
In the morning, when the dew glistened upon the grass, you came and gave a
push to my swing; but, sweeping from smiles to tears, I did not know you.
Then came April's noon of gorgeous light, and I think you beckoned me to
follow you.
But when I sought your face, there passed between us the procession of
flowers, and men and women flinging their songs to the south wind.
Daily I passed you unheeded on the road.
But on some days full of the faint smell of oleanders, when the wind was
wilful among complaining palm leaves, I would stand before you wondering if
you ever had been a stranger to me.
36
The day grew dim. The early evening star faltered near the edge of a grey
lonely sky.
I looked back and felt that the road lying behind me was infinitely
removed; traced through my life, it had only served for a single journey
and was never to be re-travelled.
The long story of my coming hither lies there dumb, in one meandering line
of dust stretching from the morning hilltop to the brink of bottomless
night.
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