Dear, though the night is gone. Its dream still haunts today. That brought us to a room Cavernous, lofty as A railway terminus. And crowded in that gloom Were beds, and we in one In a far corner lay. Our whisper woke no clocks. We kissed and I was glad At everything you did. Indifferent to those Who sat with hostile eyes In pairs on every bed. Arms round each other's neck. Inert and vaguely sad. O but what worm of guilt Or what malignant doubt Am I the victim of. That you then, unabashed. Did what I never wished. Confessed another love; And I, submissive, felt Unwanted and went out? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNET: 73 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE RONDEL by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE THE WATERFALL by HENRY VAUGHAN QUATRAIN: THE IRON AGE by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH NO SORROW PECULIAR TO THE SUFFERER by VINCENT BOURNE BURY THEM by HENRY HOWARD BROWNELL |