The Name On A Door

It is only the name on a door—
Why should there be tears in my eyes?
But I never shall knock there more;
And sorrow is not overwise.

I used to go up the stair
When the day was wearing late,
And come on her unaware
As she sat and dreamed by the grate.

And then, like a sudden flame,
My welcome flashed from her eyes,
And her lips grew warm with my name,
And we saw Love's star arise.

Sometimes I but held her hand,
And never a word said we—
We could always understand
With never a word, you see.

Sometimes she chattered like mad,
And laughed—I can hear her now.
Shall I ever again be glad?
I think I've forgotten how.

It is only the name on a door,
Where I used to come and go;
But never to knock there more—
Why, the world seems dead, you know!
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