F. S. Flint

From “In London”

EYES are tired;

The lamp burns,

And in its circle of light

Papers and books lie

Where chance and life

Have placed them.

Silence sings all around me;

My head is bound with a band;

Outside in the street a few footsteps;

A clock strikes the hour.

I gaze, and my eyes close

Slowly:

I doze; but the moment before sleep,

A voice calls my name

In my ear,

And the shock jolts my heart:

But when I open my eyes,

And look, first left, and then right….

No one is there.