Picture Show (Sassoon collection)/The Dark House

by Siegfried Sassoon

For works with similar titles, see The Dark House.

THE DARK HOUSE

 

Dusk in the rain-soaked garden,And dark the house within.A door creaked; someone was earlyTo watch the dawn begin.But he stole away like a thiefIn the chilly, star-bright air:Though the house was shuttered for slumber,He had left one wakeful there.

Nothing moved in the garden.Never a bird would sing,Nor shake and scatter the dew from the boughsWith shy and startled wing.But when that lover had passed the gateA quavering thrush began...'Come back; come back!' he shrilled to the heartOf the passion-plighted man.