'Go to sleep, my sweet sister Jane; You can slumber, who need not number Hour after hour, in doubt and pain. 'I shall sit here awhile, and watch; Listening, hoping, for one hand groping In deep shadow to find the latch.' After the dark, and before the light, One lay sleeping; and one sat weeping, 20 Who had watched and wept the weary night. After the night, and before the day, One lay sleeping; and one sat weeping-- Watching, weeping for one away. There came a footstep climbing the stair; Some one standing out on the landing Shook the door like a puff of air-- Shook the door, and in he passed. Did he enter? In the room centre Stood her husband: the door shut fast. 30 'O Robin, but you are cold-- Chilled with the night-dew: so lily-white you Look like a stray lamb from our fold. 'O Robin, but you are late: Come and sit near me--sit here and cheer me.'-- (Blue the flame burnt in the grate.) 'Lay not down your head on my breast: I cannot hold you, kind wife, nor fold you In the shelter that you love best. 'Feel not after my clasping hand: 40 I am but a shadow, come from the meadow Where many lie, but no tree can stand. 'We are trees which have shed their leaves: Our heads lie low there, but no tears flow there; Only I grieve for my wife who grieves. 'I could rest if you would not moan Hour after hour; I have no power To shut my ears where I lie alone. 'I could rest if you would not cry; But there's no sleeping while you sit weeping-- 50 Watching, weeping so bitterly.'-- 'Woe's me! woe's me! for this I have heard. Oh night of sorrow!--oh black to-morrow! Is it thus that you keep your word? 'O you who used so to shelter me Warm from the least wind--why, now the east wind Is warmer than you, whom I quake to see. 'O my husband of flesh and blood, For whom my mother I left, and brother, And all I had, accounting it good, 60 'What do you do there, underground, In the dark hollow? I'm fain to follow. What do you do there?--what have you found?'-- 'What I do there I must not tell: But I have plenty: kind wife, content ye: It is well with us--it is well. 'Tender hand hath made our nest; Our fear is ended, our hope is blended With present pleasure, and we have rest.'-- 'Oh, but Robin, I'm fain to come, 70 If your present days are so pleasant; For my days are so wearisome. 'Yet I'll dry my tears for your sake: Why should I tease you, who cannot please you Any more with the pains I take?' MEMORY I I nursed it in my bosom while it lived, I hid it in my heart when it was dead; In joy I sat alone, even so I grieved Alone and nothing said. I shut the door to face the naked truth, I stood alone--I faced the truth alone, Stripped bare of self-regard or forms or ruth Till first and last were shown.