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I came back late and tired last nightInto my little room,To the long chair and the firelightAnd comfortable gloom.
But as I entered softly inI saw a woman there,The line of neck and cheek and chin,The darkness of her hair,The form of one I did not knowSitting in my chair.
I stood a moment fierce and still,Watching her neck and hair.I made a step to her; and sawThat there was no one there.
It was some trick of the firelightThat made me see her there.It was a chance of shade and lightAnd the cushion in the chair.
Oh, all you happy over the earth,That night, how could I sleep?I lay and watched the lonely gloom;And watched the moonlight creepFrom wall to basin, round the room,All night I could not sleep.
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