They turned him loose; he bowed his head, A felon, bent and grey. His face was even as the Dead, He had no word to say. He sought the home of his old love, To look on her once more; And where her roses breathed above, He cowered beside the door. She sat there in the shining room; Her hair was silver grey. He stared and stared from out the gloom; He turned to go away. Her roses rustled overhead. She saw, with sudden start. "I knew that you would come," she said, And held him to her heart. Her face was rapt and angel-sweet; She touched his hair of grey; . . . . . @3Bur he, sob-shaken, at her feet, Could only pray and pray.@1 | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WRITTEN IN EMERSON'S ESSAYS by MATTHEW ARNOLD ELEGY: 18. LOVES PROGRESS by JOHN DONNE THE MAN HE KILLED by THOMAS HARDY ODE FOR THE AMERICAN DEAD IN ASIA by THOMAS MCGRATH THE CONVENT THRESHOLD by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI AUNTIE'S SKIRTS by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON DECEMBER by ELIZABETH V. AUVACHE EPITAPH ON SUSANNAH BARBAULD MARISSAL by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |