Wine, the red coals, the flaring gas, Bring out a brighter tone in cheeks That learn at home before the glass The flush that eloquently speaks. The blue-grey smoke of cigarettes Curls from the lessening ends that glow; The men are thinking of the bets, The women of the debts, they owe. Then their eyes meet, and in their eyes The accustomed smile comes up to call. A look half miserably wise, Half heedlessly ironical. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MAN IN A ROOM by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS MY SWEET BROWN GAL by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE ARROW AND THE SONG by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW IN A GARDEN by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE THE OWL by PHILIP EDWARD THOMAS |