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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=348420" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Woman's Mood</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I think to-night I could bear it all, <br> Even the arrow that cleft the core, -- <br>Could I wait again for your swift footfall, <br> And your sunny face coming in at the door. <br>With the old frank look and the gay young smile, <br> And the ring of the words you used to say; <br>I could almost deem the pain worth while, <br> To greet you again in the olden way! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">But you stand without in the dark and cold, <br> And I may not open the long closed door, <br>Nor call thro' the night, with the love of old, -- <br> "Come into the warmth, as in nights of yore!" <br>I kneel alone in the red fire-glow, <br> And hear the wings of the wind sweep by; <br>You are out afar in the night, I know, <br> And the sough of the wind is like a cry. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">You are out afar -- and I wait within, <br> A grave-eyed woman whose pulse is slow; <br>The flames round the red coals softly spin, <br> And the lonely room's in a rosy glow. <br>The firelight falls on your vacant chair, <br> And the soft brown rug where you used to stand; <br>Dear, never again shall I see you there, <br> Nor lift my head for your seeking hand. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yet sometimes still, and in spite of all, <br> I wistful look at the fastened door, <br>And wait again for the swift footfall, <br> And the gay young voice as in hours of yore. <br>It still seems strange to be here alone, <br> With the rising sob of the wind without; <br>The sound takes a deep, insisting tone, <br> Where the trees are swinging their arms about. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Its moaning reaches the sheltered room, <br> And thrills my heart with a sense of pain; <br>I walk to the window, and pierce the gloom, <br> With a yearning look that is all in vain. <br>You are out in a night of depths that hold <br> No promise of dawning for you and me, <br>And only a ghost from the life of old <br> Has come from the world of memory! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">You are out evermore! God wills it so! <br> But ah! my spirit is yearning yet! <br>As I kneel alone by the red fire-glow, <br> My eyes grow dim with the old regret. <br>O when shall the aching throb grow still, <br> The warm love-life turn cold at the core! <br>Must I be watching, against my will, <br> For your banished face in the opening door? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">It may be, dear, when the sequel's told <br> Of the story, read to its bitter close; <br>When the inner meanings of life unfold, <br> And the under-side of our being shows -- <br>It may be then, in that truer light, <br> When all our knowledge has larger grown, <br>I may understand why you stray to-night, <br> And I am left, with the past, alone.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Arthur+Bayldon">Arthur Bayldon</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=348420" data-title="A Woman's Mood de Arthur Bayldon" data-description="I think to-night I could bear it all, Even the arrow that cleft the core, -- Could I wait again for your swift footfall, And your sunny face coming in at the door. With the old frank look and the gay young s..."></div> </div> </div>
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