V
For there you sat, you smiled, you chatted on,
Myself alone perceiving the keen cold
Sword at your heart, the speechless malison
That trembled on your tongue, the while it trolled
Its senseless clamour of necessary wit,
And woke the senseless necessary laughter,
The senseless necessary reply to it,
The long sad silly commonplace thereafter.
Suppose we had risen, as quick as thought, and stood
And caught and kissed—what could the storm have done
Worse than this sickening fog of solitude?
Who can do worse than take away the sun?
They better had take care, I think. One day
We shall go mad, and take ourselves away.
Myself alone perceiving the keen cold
Sword at your heart, the speechless malison
That trembled on your tongue, the while it trolled
Its senseless clamour of necessary wit,
And woke the senseless necessary laughter,
The senseless necessary reply to it,
The long sad silly commonplace thereafter.
Suppose we had risen, as quick as thought, and stood
And caught and kissed—what could the storm have done
Worse than this sickening fog of solitude?
Who can do worse than take away the sun?
They better had take care, I think. One day
We shall go mad, and take ourselves away.
— 39 —
