I knew it the first of the Summer -- I knew it the same at the end -- That you and your love were plighted, But couldn't you be my friend? Couldn't we sit in the twilight, Couldn't we walk on the shore, With only a pleasant friendship To bind us, and nothing more? There was never a word of nonsense Spoken between us two, Though we lingered oft in the garden Till the roses were wet with dew. We touched on a thousand subjects -- The moon and the stars above; But our talk was tinctured with science, With never a hint of love. "A wholly platonic friendship," You said I had proved to you, "Could bind a man and a woman The whole long season through, With never a thought of folly, Though both are in their youth." What would you have said, my lady, If you had known the truth? Had I done what my mad heart prompted -- Gone down on my knees to you, And told you my passionate story There in the dusk and dew; My burning, burdensome story, Hidden and hushed so long, My story of hopeless loving -- Say, would you have thought it wrong? But I fought with my heart and conquered; I hid my wound from sight; You were going away in the morning, And I said a calm good-night. But now, when I sit in the twilight, Or when I walk by the sea, That friendship quite "platonic" Comes surging over me. And a passionate longing fills me For the roses, the dusk and the dew, -- For the beautiful Summer vanished -- For the moonlit talks -- and you. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO A BLUEBELL by EMILY JANE BRONTE OUR LADY by MARY ELIZABETH COLERIDGE WORLDLY PLACE by MATTHEW ARNOLD PURIFICATION OF YE B. VIRGIN (TO A BASE, A TENOR, AND TWO TREBLES) by JOSEPH BEAUMONT |