Lean from your window when the dim stars fade, 
When the grey dawn-wind stirs your poplar tree ; 
Look eastward, dear, -- O do not be afraid 
  Thus, once, to watch for me. 

My shallow grave is very far away, 
Where the great plains lie barren oversea, 
But I would meet you at the door of day, 
  Did you but call to me. 

Call to me once, but once, and I shall hear. 
As your heart bids you call -- or silent be --
And if 'tis silence, then so best, my dear : 
  All will be well with me.