IN A CATHEDRAL CITY
These people have not heard your name;
No loungers in this placid place
Have helped to bruit your beauty’s fame.
The grey Cathedral, towards whose face
Bend eyes untold, has met not yours;
Your shade has never swept its base,
Your form has never darked its doors,
Nor have your faultless feet once thrown
A pensive pit-pat on its floors.
Along the street to maids well known
Blithe lovers hum their tender airs,
But in your praise voice not a tone.
—Since nought bespeaks you here, or bears,
As I, your imprint through and through,
Here might I rest, till my heart shares
The spot’s unconsciousness of you!
Salisbury.
“I SAY I’LL SEEK HER”
I say, “I’ll seek her side
Ere hindrance interposes;”
But eve in midnight closes,
And here I still abide.
When darkness wears I see
Her sad eyes in a vision;
They ask, “What indecision
Detains you, Love, from me?—