Page:Fiddler's Farewell.djvu/30

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Third Floor Landing

A stranger knocked upon your door,
A stranger-voice cried out, "Come in!"
Beyond, a sofa, plump and red,
Crouched where a carven chest had been.

I craned to see the things I knew
Could not be there, since you were gone—
Oh twilight of the household gods,
Dishonored altars where they shone!

I saw instead a gilded glimpse
Of trivial things that seemed to shout
A trivial welcome from the wall;
The door swung to and shut me out.

Only the landing was unchanged,
The closed door donned a friendly air;
I had no quarrel with my place,
I was at home upon the stair.

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