I hear the clicking latch, the creaking door,
And hobnails grating on the sanded floor,
A dozen times a day — and yet he comes no more.

His hand has clicked that latch, and creaked that door,
His hobnails grated on the sanded floor,
Times out of mind — and yet he comes no more.

And now the latch aye clicks, and creaks the door,
And his sons' hobnails on the sanded floor
Grind out my heart's refrain — He comes no more!