Classic Poem

Just a door between us,—no more,
And your hand on the bell,
When a voice inside of the door
Broke the spell.

And you turned, perhaps with a sigh,
From the small garden gate,
And I never knew you were by
Till too late.

So near, so near, yet so far!
Just a thin narrow door
Shut between us,—just a far
Evermore!

And now, perhaps with a sigh,
Or a smile,—who can tell?—
I think what we missed, you and I,
For that bell.

God knew best, though when your last letter
Told the story to me,
For a time, I thought I knew better,
For you see.

I wanted what there was denied,
Were it a weed or a flower;
I wanted what budded and died
In that hour.

And though I look back on that season
Of friendship platonic,
And laugh at the rhyme without reason,
Half ironic:

And though time has brought me far more
Than I care now to tell,
I sometimes think of that door
And that bell!