I Got Over You.

I waited now for my lover's return;
eager to disburden my mind,
to seek of him the solution of the agitation,
that had robbed me of my tranquility.

I said, "I will stay by the window-casement:
it is moonlight at intervals; I can see a good way of the road.
He may be coming now,
and to meet him will save some minutes of suspense.

Moments after moments were wasted.
How many times had the clock struck, I could not recall.
A puerile tear dimmed my eye while I looked
-a tear of desperation and disappointment;
ashamed of it, I wiped it away.

I lingered;
though the moon shut herself wholly within her chamber,
and drew close her curtain of dense cloud:
the night grew dark; rain driving fast on the gale.

But the road...
as far as I could see, to the right hand and the left,
was all still and solitary: save for the shadows of clouds crossing it at intervals as the moon looked out.
It was but a long, pale line, unvaried by one moving speck.

I thought that you were on the road, my love.
I was to follow the windings of the unknown road, should I?
I was to strain every nerve to reach you, should I?
I was to make effort on effort to utter your name
and entreat you to stop, should I?

Should I, when total obscurity environed me,
rain pelted me and I was heavily burdened?
Should I, when my movements were but fettered,
my voice died away inarticulate?
While you, I felt, withdrew farther and farther every moment.

I continued the wish to be with you, should I?