The Journey

Reluctantly I laid aside my smiles, Those little, pleasing knickknacks of the face, And dropped the words accustomed to my tongue, And took just half a breath in breathing’s space; And then I drew the curtains of my eyes And ceased to move, and rallied all my thought, Selecting all the verity that lies Through daily life, with false pretences fraught; I sorted and arranged and packed my hope And my despair together, in my heart; I tied the strings and sealed the envelope In which ambition, stifled, used to smart; Took out my conscience—long since laid away— And shook it, folded it, with thoughts like tears; Revised my errors, sorted out the years When doubt and egotism held their sway; All this I did the night I heard them say Beside the pillow, “She will die at dawn”— And then they wept and called me by my name: I would have liked to soothe them, but in vain— I had so very little time to stay, And so much packing to be done before I put my fires out and closed my door To catch the stage-coach which would pass that way At dawn, and bear me down eternity. I hurried—and grew weary and turned weak— The time drew near,—oh, how I longed to speak And tell them I was sorry to have been So great a trouble; then a distant din, A muffled rumble, and the coach drew near; One weary moment, it will soon be here! I sighed, and sank and dreamed myself away, And then “Thank God, thank God!” I heard them say, While with a pang, half wonderment, half pain, I woke—and found the coach had missed the train!