"I do not know," she said. "Yet in my heart I know that He is living, as you are living -- Living, and here. He is not far from us. He will come back to us and find us all -- Lazarus, Martha, Mary -- everything -- All as it was before. Martha said that. And He said we were not to be afraid." Lazarus closed his eyes while on his face A tortured adumbration of a smile Flickered an instant. "All as it was before," He murmured wearily. "Martha said that; And He said you were not to be afraid . . . Not you . . . Not you . . . Why should you be afraid? Give all your little fears, and Martha's with them, To me; and I will add them unto mine, Like a few rain-drops to Gennesaret." "If you had frightened me in other ways, Not willing it," Mary said, "I should have known You still for Lazarus. But who is this? Tell me again that you are Lazarus; And tell me if the Master gave to you No sign of a new joy that shall be coming To this house that He loved. Are you afraid? Are you afraid, who have felt everything -- And seen . . . ?" But Lazarus only shook his head, Staring with his bewildered shining eyes Hard into Mary's face. "I do not know, Mary," he said, after a long time. "When I came back, I knew the Master's eyes Were looking into mine. I looked at His, And there was more in them than I could see. At first I could see nothing but His eyes; Nothing else anywhere was to be seen -- Only His eyes. And they looked into mine -- Long into mine, Mary, as if He knew." Mary began to be afraid of words As she had never been afraid before Of loneliness or darkness, or of death, But now she must have more of them or die: "He cannot know that there is worse than death," She said. "And you . . ." "Yes, there is worse than death." Said Lazarus; "and that was what He knew; And that is what it was that I could see This morning in his eyes. I was afraid, But not as you are. There is worse than death, Mary; and there is nothing that is good For you in dying while you are still here. Mary, never go back to that again. You would not hear me if I told you more, For I should say it only in a language That you are not to learn by going back. To be a child again is to go forward -- And that is much to know. Many grow old, And fade, and go away, not knowing how much That is to know. Mary, the night is coming, And there will soon be darkness all around you. Let us go down where Martha waits for us, And let there be light shining in this house."