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<br/>
<h2> RECOGNITION </h2>
<p>As in a foreign land one threads his way<br/>
‘Mid alien scenes, knowing no face he meets;<br/>
And, hearing his name spoken, turns and greets<br/>
With wondering joy a friend of other days;<br/>
<br/>
As in the pause that comes between the sound<br/>
And recognition, all the finer sense<br/>
Is swathed in a melodious eloquence,<br/>
Which makes his name seem in its sweetness drowned<br/>
<br/>
So stood I, by an atmosphere beguiled<br/>
Of glad surprise, when first thy lips let fall<br/>
The name I lightly carried when a child,<br/>
<br/>
That I shall rise to at the judgment call.<br/>
The music of thy nature folded round<br/>
Its barrenness a majesty of sound.<br/></p>
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