The Deserter

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.