Vi

I thought I had put Love by for a time And I was glad, for to me his fair face Is like Pain's face. A little light, The lowered curtain and the theatre! And o'er the frail talk of the inter-act Something that broke the jest! A little light, The gold, and half the profile! The whole face Was nothing like you, yet that image cut Sheer through the moment.

VIb

I have gone seeking for you in the twilight, Here in the flurry of Fifth Avenue, Here where they pass between their teas and teas. Is it such madness? though you could not be Ever in all that crowd, no gown Of all their subtle sorts could be your gown.

Yet I am fed with faces, is there one That even in the half-light mindeth me.