We stood by a pond that winter day, And the sun was white, as though chidden of God, And a few leaves lay on the starving sod; --- They had fallen from an ash, and were gray.
Your eyes on me were as eyes that rove Over tedious riddles of years ago; And some words played between us to and fro On which lost the more by our love.
The smile on your mouth was the deadest thing Alive enough to have strength to die; And a grin of bitterness swept thereby Like an ominous bird a-wing...
Since then, keen lessons that love deceives, And wrings with wrong, have shaped to me Your face, and the God-cursed sun, and a tree, And a pond edged with grayish leaves.
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