I years had been from home:

I years had been from home,   
And now, before the door,   
I dared not open, lest a face   
I never saw before   
 
Stare vacant into mine                                  5
And ask my business there.   
My business,—just a life I left,   
Was such still dwelling there?   
 
I fumbled at my nerve,   
I scanned the windows near;                        10
The silence like an ocean rolled,   
And broke against my ear.   
 
I laughed a wooden laugh   
That I could fear a door,   
Who danger and the dead had faced,            15
But never quaked before.   
 
I fitted to the latch   
My hand, with trembling care,   
Lest back the awful door should spring,   
And leave me standing there.                       20
 
I moved my fingers off   
As cautiously as glass,   
And held my ears, and like a thief   
Fled gasping from the house.