Fear

I shall not breathe your name; The winds of green fields bear it, On many a bush Spring signs it More clearly after rain.

Nor should your face be seen, For they may take you from me; Then gently, most cautiously,

O blind each window-pane!

Yes, queerly in the two lights, Between the stars and candle, I hear chill music crying, From tree to secret tree.

What of those earthy cryings?

Be calm, for the bush wood hedges The chirping of those lonely strings, No harp has ever caged!

Then nearer, love, and nearer, White signature of Spring;

I'll think of you in still music,

I shall not breathe your name—

Thinking of what bright flood Hushes a heart grown dark, Forgetting the crush of dusk That quenched a sunning lark!

So, lover, move with a soft tread; O close out the heavy door,

For cautiously, most cautiously, The Dead pass by outside.