HOLLOW rang the house when I knocked
on the door,
And I
lingered on the threshold with my hand
Upraised to knock and knock once
more:
Listening for
the sound of her feet across the floor,
Hollow re-echoed my
heart.
The low-hung lamps stretched down
the road
With
shadows drifting underneath,
With a music of soft, melodious feet
Quickening my hope as I
hastened to meet
The
low-hung light of her eyes.
The golden lamps down the street
went out,
The last
car trailed the night behind;
And I in the darkness wandered about
With a flutter of hope and of
dark-shut doubt
In
the dying lamp of my love.
Two brown ponies trotting
slowly
Stopped at a
dim-lit trough to drink:
The dark van drummed down the distance
slowly;
While the
city stars so dim and holy
Drew nearer to search through the
streets.
A hastening car swept shameful
past,
I saw her hid
in the shadow,
I saw
her step to the curb, and fast
Run to the silent door, where last
I had stood with my hand
uplifted.
She clung
to the door in her haste to enter,
Entered, and quickly cast
It shut behind her, leaving the
street aghast.