THANK YOU!
(For a Photograph, inscribed "With Ethel Travers's kind regards.")
It was only a week in the brightest of summers,
We played tennis and golf, and, when ended the day,
We made furious love as two amateur mummers,
Whilst Act IV. saw us One in the orthodox way.
So my holiday ended. I begged a reminder,
I asked you to send me a portrait that should
Be a sweet recollection, and you, who were kinder
Than I ever deserved or dared hope, said you would.
Then we parted. Life seemed to be painfully lonely,
Though I dreamt of a future with you by my side,
Till my common-sense seemed to say, "You, who are only,
Just a poor needy teacher, have Her for a bride!"
It was true, and I knew it. Yet why had I met you?
Why had Fate kept such bitter-sweet fortune in store?
So determined I set myself then to forget you,
And to let my thoughts dwell on yourself nevermore.
First your hair with its gold, next your eyes with their laughter,
I forgot in a thoroughly workman-like style.
Persevering, I never desisted till after
Many months I but faintly remembered your smile.
I completely forgot you (I thought) and the warning
Was to save me, I chortled, a future of pain,
But you undid it all with your picture this morning,
And the same old, old trouble starts over again.
The Fates are a trifle hard, putting it mildly,
For they well might have spared me this finishing touch
Of your portrait, which speaking quite calmly yet Wildely,
I admire all the more since I hate it so much.
I shall treasure it, though. Thanks—a thousand—to you, dear.
When in sweet meditation your fancy runs free,
Is it asking too much that a stray thought or two, dear,
From your kindness of heart may come straying to me?