XXXVII EAST SHEEN

So here’s your home! Why, something of you flashes Still, through the rain and mist. The houses new and pink—green doors, green window-sashes— Fade in the thought that here it was we kissed, Under that puny tree! (The street lamp’s glare Mocked at the ageless moon—the same whose beams Laid all the loveliness of Helen bare And shone on Cleopatra’s hungry dreams, And made a road of silver down old Nile, Maddening her lovers to their lovely end, Who, having loved her, slew them with a smile, Proud to have looked on what you showed them, friend....) Now from the little street the moon is fled, Covering her face with vails of trailing cloud. All’s mist and rain—but you awake in bed, I by your door, and two hearts beating loud!