A Broken Appointment
You did not come,And marching Time drew on, and wore me numb.—Yet less for loss of your dear presence thereThan that I thus found lacking in your makeThat high compassion which can overbearReluctance for pure lovingkindness’ sakeGrieved I, when, as the hope-hour stroked its sum,You did not come.
You love not me,And love alone can lend you loyalty;—I know and knew it. But, unto the storeOf human deeds divine in all but name,Was it not worth a little hour or moreTo add yet this: Once, you, a woman, cameTo soothe a time-torn man; even though it beYou love not me?
Sign in to like, rate and collect poems, and keep track of what you've read.