I WRITE TO YOU IN RED

I write to you in red, though not in blood, For scarlet all my memories are dyed With deep imaginings of what the past, The past, the past—the unforgotten gone. Ah, what it might have been designed upon! I write to you in red because the flood Of scarlet passion prisoned, long denied Your love, yet in your bondage bonded fast, Is freed to flow again, to stream, And if it can, another love esteem. But all too long your chains upon my heart Have left a scar which testifies me dead To all frivolity. I have no part With lightsome love. I write to you in red!