Classic Poem

In the dusk I hear the music of your footsteps returning—
And echoing of footsteps that never will return—
Through the gloom I see the fire in your eyes with passion burning
And myriads of closed eyes where love will never burn.

Ah, hold me close and closer! I am frightened by this gladness
So strangely mixed with sorrow for half a world in tears,
And joy of your returning cannot still this haunting sadness—
This echoing of footsteps retreating down the years.