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Katharine Tynan - Missing
Work rating: Low

To Leucha Mary Warner

He is "Missing," and forlorn
     Drag her days in grief and pain.
Every morn a hope is born,
     Only to be lost again.

"Missing!" Almost better "Killed."
     The long anguish breaks her heart
That`s a dead thing, numbed and chilled
     Till the live fear bids it start.

Now a knocking at the door,
     Now a shouting in the street,
Makes her poor heart run before,
     The most bitter news to meet.

"Missing!" It may be he dies
     `Mid his foes and comfortless.
When sleep shuts her heavy eyes,
     Still she seeks him in distress.

Dear, he is not missing, not lost.
     Rest your heart as on a bed.
For the One who loves him most
     Knows where he has laid his head.

He accounted of all worth,
     This beloved bought with a price,
Watchers look East, South, and North
     From the heights of Paradise

Lest that he take any ill.
     Still the Mighty Lover goes,
Seeks the beloved o`er many a hill.
     Be at rest, dear child! He knows!
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