To Leucha Mary Warner <br /> <br />He is 'Missing,' and forlorn <br />Drag her days in grief and pain. <br />Every morn a hope is born, <br />Only to be lost again. <br /> <br />'Missing!' Almost better 'Killed.' <br />The long anguish breaks her heart <br />That's a dead thing, numbed and chilled <br />Till the live fear bids it start. <br /> <br />Now a knocking at the door, <br />Now a shouting in the street, <br />Makes her poor heart run before, <br />The most bitter news to meet. <br /> <br />'Missing!' It may be he dies <br />'Mid his foes and comfortless. <br />When sleep shuts her heavy eyes, <br />Still she seeks him in distress. <br /> <br />Dear, he is not missing, not lost. <br />Rest your heart as on a bed. <br />For the One who loves him most <br />Knows where he has laid his head. <br /> <br />He accounted of all worth, <br />This beloved bought with a price, <br />Watchers look East, South, and North <br />From the heights of Paradise <br /> <br />Lest that he take any ill. <br />Still the Mighty Lover goes, <br />Seeks the beloved o'er many a hill. <br />Be at rest, dear child! He knows!<br /><br />Katharine Tynan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/missing-88/
