The Stranger

Never am I so

As when I walk among the crowd — Blurred masks of stern or grinning stone,

Unmeaning eyes and voices loud.

Gaze dares not encounter gaze,…Humbled,

I turn my head aside;

When suddenly there is a face…Pale, subdued and grievous-eyed.

Ah,

I know that visage meek,

Those trembling lips, the eyes that

But turn from that which they would

With an air piteous, divine!

There is not a line or scar,

Seal of a sorrow or disgrace,

But I know like sigils

Burned in my heart and on my face.

Speak!

O speak!

Thou art the one!

But thou hast passed with sad head bowed;

And never am I so

As when I walk among the crowd.