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- Out of the Past there has come a face;
- Wherefore I do not know;
- I did not call it from its place,
- I cannot make it go;
- In the night it was very near,
- And it looks at me today,
- With well-known eyes, so kind, so dear,
- And it will not go away.
- I am the same that I was before,
- There is nothing new to say;
- But this is with me evermore,
- As it was not yesterday;
- It makes the Moment vague and vain,
- And (what a wondrous thing!)
- I hear an old tale told again
- As if it was happening.
- You talk, but scarce I understand;
- If you but pause for breath,
- Straightway I am in that far land
- Beyond the seas of Death.
- All living sights are dimly seen
- Across that mighty space--
- How can I tell you what I mean?
- 'Tis nothing but a face.
- O friends, who think me dull or cold,
- Why do you feel surprise?
- Have you no memories that hold
- Your weary waking eyes?
- I want to take all patiently,
- But I sometimes long to say,
- A Face has come from the Past to me--
- Let me alone to-day!
- Menella Bute Smedley
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