To tell me you are near, if near you are.
If I were gone beyond the farthest star,
You would have proof of it in ways all mine.
Oh, must I, needful of sustaining wine,
Find only water or a broken jar?
There is no signal ever, no faint sign
To tell me you are near; if near you are.
In the still dusk, rose speaks to columbine
With fragrant breath.
There is no mist to mar
The firefly's beckon glistening from afar.
Yet for me, left to watch and to repine,
There is no signal ever, no faint sign.
Edited by May William Ward
(New York: Henry Harrison. 1935)