Andrew Macphail, comp. The Book of Sorrow. 1916.
Here, ever since you wentWalter Savage Landor (17751864)
H
If there be change, no change I see:
I only walk our wonted road,
The road is only walkt by me.
Was it of that you bade me tell?
I catch at times, at times I miss
The sight, the tone, I know so well.
Two shortest months! Then tell me why
Voices are harsher than they were,
And tears are longer ere they dry.