Sandy Star Iii

by: William Stanley Braithwaite

_Exit_

No, his exit by the gate
Will not leave the wind ajar;
He will go when it is late
With a misty star.

One will call, he cannot see;
One will call, he will not hear;
He will take no company
Nor a hope or fear.

We shall smile who loved him so--
They who gave him hate will weep;
But for us the winds will blow
Pulsing through his sleep.