Beauty would drink of my mind.
Youth would awhile forget
my youth is gone from me.
II
(“Speak up! You have danced so stiffly?
Someone admired your works,
And said so frankly.
“Did you talk like a fool,
The first night?
The second evening?”
“But they promised again:
‘To-morrow at tea-time.’”)
III
Now the third day is here—
no word from either;
No word from her nor him,
Only another man’s note:
“Dear Pound, I am leaving England.”