Home . . .
"WE'RE going home!" I heard two lovers say,
They kissed their friends and bade them bright good-byes;
I hid the deadly hunger in my eyes,
And, lest I might have killed them, turned away.
Ah, love, we too once gambolled home as they,
Home from the town with such fair merchandise,
Wine and great grapes the happy lover buys:
A little cosy feast to crown the day.
Yes! we had once a heaven we called a home,
Its empty rooms still haunt me like thine eyes
When the last sunset softly faded there;
Each day I tread each empty haunted room,
And now and then a little baby cries,
Or laughs a lovely laughter worse to bear.