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A STRANGER
came to the door at eve,
And he spoke the bridegroom
fair.
He bore a green-white stick in his hand,
And, for all burden, care.
He asked with the eyes
more than the lips
For a shelter for the night,
And he turned and looked at the road afar
Without a
window light.
The bridegroom came forth into the
porch
With, 'Let us look at the sky,
And question
what of the night to be,
Stranger, you and I.'
The
woodbine leaves littered the yard,
The woodbine
berries were blue,
Autumn, yes, winter was in the
wind;
'Stranger, I wish I knew.'
Within, the bride
in the dusk alone
Bent over the open fire,
Her
face rose-red with the glowing coal
And the thought
of the heart's desire.
The bridegroom looked at the
weary road,
Yet saw but her within,
And wished her
heart in a case of gold
And pinned with a silver pin.
The bridegroom thought it little to give
A dole of
bread, a purse,
A heartfelt prayer for the poor of
God,
Or for the rich a curse;
But whether or not a
man was asked
To mar the love of two
By harboring
woe in the bridal house,
The bridegroom wished he
knew.
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