Your diamonds on my finger glisten, Still, in the dull, forsaken room; Alone with thoughts of you, I listen To the rain sobbing through the gloom. But what soft wandering light is this Comes flooding to a ruddier glow The warm remembrances of bliss Your diamonds on my finger know, When, heart to heart, we lay and listened, And, where the tedious gaslight rests, Your diamonds on my finger glistened In the white hollow of your breasts? |