‘Another Stranger’ HÉDAUVILLE. November 1915. The sunshine on the long white road That ribboned down the hill, The velvet clematis that clung Around your window-sill, Are waiting for you still. Again the shadowed pool shall break In dimples round your feet, And when the thrush sings in your wood, Unknowing you may meet Another stranger, Sweet. And if he is not quite so old As the boy you used to know, And less proud, too, and worthier, You may not let him go— (And daisies are truer than passion-flowers) It will be better so. R. A. L.
