Page:Pictures & poems.djvu/36

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"FOUND"


THERE is a budding morrow in midnight:"—

So sang our Keats, our English nightingale.

 And here, as lamps across the bridge turn pale

In London's smokeless resurrection-light,

Dark breaks to dawn. But o'er the deadly blight

 Of Love deflowered and sorrow of none avail,

 Which makes this man gasp and this woman quail,

Can day from darkness ever again take flight?


Ah! gave not these two hearts their mutual pledge,

Under one mantle sheltered 'neath the hedge

 In gloaming courtship? And, O God! to-day

He only knows he holds her;—but what part

Can life now take ? She cries in her locked heart,—

 "Leave me—I do not know you—go away!"