Love has gone and left me, and the neighbors knock and borrow,
And life goes on forever like the gnawing of a mouse,—
And to-morrow and to-morrow and to-morrow and to-morrow
There’s this little street and this little house.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
THE CYNIC
I say it to comfort me over and over,
Having a querulous heart to beguile,
Never had woman a tenderer lover—
For a little while.