Lost Lights

“Let’s not be sentimental!” You said, oh dear delight! Well, you held Heaven’s rental; And who was I to fight? “Cool friends, alert and laughing, And blessed by Plato’s snow. But other wine for quaffing, Be sentimental? No!”

I took you at your own word. —Fool while my life shall last! And found the “friend” a stone word, And knew the radiance past. The comradeship by snatches, The love that lit my days Went out like burnt-out matches Before your husband’s gaze.

He strokes you with caresses Too sugared to be sweet, And fatly pats your tresses, And binds your swift-winged feet; And you’ve no thirst to slake from The gold of each new June. Nor ever dare to break from Your sticky-bright cocoon.

I could have held you cleaner, And free as clouds are free, And shared you with nought meaner Than sun and stars and sea. But I’d a sense of humor —At least you told me so— And pride beyond all rumor! And so I let you go.

Life breaks us—that grows plainer. And wit declines to gall With none of us the gainer ... It seems a shame—that’s all! When truth about me nears you You’d better shut your eyes. And you—his sugar smears you. And the air crawls with flies.