Tears of Sadness, Tears of Joy

Don't think I'm anybody special, now: I'm just an old friend standing at your door. They said your house was here, and being poor Of treasure, tired and footsore, I asked how You might be: Do you smile much, or frown more Than erstwhile lover's memory allow. They said you look away with heavy brow, As though a happy thought that came before Flew far on promise of a swift return. But still you wait, chin resolute in hand, For word of him who by your door now stands. I hesitate -- I pull the latch to learn If tears of sadness or of joy I raise -- Or may be blended in lovers' embrace.