I know not why or whence he came
Or how he chanced to go;
I only know he brought me love
And going, left me woe.
I do not ask that he turn back,
Nor seek where he may rove;
For where woe rules can never be
The dwelling place of love.
For love went out the door of hope,
And on and on has fled;
Caring no more to dwell within
The house where faith is dead.
From Caroling Dusk (Harper & Brothers, 1927), edited by Countee Cullen. This poem is in the public domain.