Explore "Afterward" by Elizabeth Stuart Phelps Ward on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
There _is_ no vacant chair. The loving meet -- / A group unbroken -- smitten, who knows how? / One sitteth silent only, in his usual seat; / We gave him once that freedom. Why not now?
Perhaps he is too weary, and needs rest; / He needed it too often, nor could we / Bestow. God gave it, knowing how to do so best. / Which of us would disturb him? Let him be.