Lost Footsteps

Upon the disc of Love’s bright planet fell
A darkness yestereve, and from your lips
I heard cold words; then came a swift eclipse
Of joy at meeting on hope’s it-is-well.

And if I spoke with sadness and with fear;
If from your gentle coldness I drew back,
And felt that I had lost the flowery track
That led to peace in Love’s sweet atmosphere:

It was because a woful dread possessed.
My aching heart--the dread some evil star
Had crossed the warm affection in your breast,

Had bade me stand apart from where you are.
The world seemed breaking on my life; I heard
The crash of sorrows in that chiding word.