Chapter VII

So, to the Pines. Ah, here, in the hush’d blue
You may spy cities, dim in the dim sky,
Stretching-strange roadways to the inner view.
See! See!—oh, loved one, see! Hope shall not die....

_Oak Hill Way_

_He_: May I stop and kiss you here,
O, my dear?

_She_: You may stop, but I’ll not stay:
I’m going homewards now—Good day!

_He_: Here’s a lane, and quiet, too:
’Tis where the folks from London woo,
Two and two.

_She_: It leads to Kilburn, where I live:
I promised I’d be back at five—
I must be quick or I’ll be late,
No, no—I dare not wait.

_He_: See, Maggie, it’s called Lover’s Lane,
So other’s girls are kind, that’s plain.
This love’s a thing that all men know;
There, link your arm in my arm—so.

_She_: I didn’t think you were so silly:
Walk up—it’s chilly.

_He_: O, since in life there’s little bliss,
And most of it lies in a kiss—
Don’t turn those cruel lips away,
But just one moment, Maggie, stay!
...
Lor! here’s the blessed street. Oh! why....

_She_: You foolish lad, don’t _ask_. Good-bye!

_Spaniards’_

The moon shone withering, wild and white,
And ruddy gleamed the bars,
And far below, the city’s light
Streamed up to meet the stars.

“Look down,” ses Tom, “them streets that shine,
And look, the gaudy sky!
By God, to-night, my girl, you’re mine”
—And glad enough was I.

Oh, why did blow so soft and warm
That breeze on Spaniards’ Road!
I never thought to take no harm,
Nor bear so hard a load.

1913.

_Richmond Park_

I

What do I want with your little, shrinking love?
See, I have a star in my hand, that I snatched from the blue above,
I have the moon under my arm; and dreams in my heart that cry—
And, look, the glow of my city, my home—like blood-red fire in the sky!
You cannot bind me with cords, while you give or withhold little kisses,
I will fly off and forget....
Ah!