"AND how could you dream of meeting?" Nay, how can you ask me, sweet? All day my pulse had been beating The tune of your coming feet. And as nearer and ever nearer I felt the throb of your tread, To be in the world grew dearer, And my blood ran rosier red. Love called, and I could not linger, But sought the forbidden tryst, As music follows the finger Of the dreaming lutanist. And though you had said it and said it, "We must not be happy to-day," Was I not wiser to credit The fire in my feet than your Nay? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...STABAT MATER DOLOROSA by JACOPONE DA TODI SONNET: 24. THE STREET by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL BARCAROLE: DE VIGNY by E. G. B. ACHIEVEMENT by MORRIS ABEL BEER AFTERGLOW by CHARLES GRANGER BLANDEN TO THE PREACHERS ON ARMISTICE DAY by VINCENT GODFREY BURNS |