I've often wondered why she laughed On thinking why I wondered so; It seemed such waste that long white hands Should touch my hands and let them go. And once when we were parting there, Unseen of anything but trees, I touched her fingers, thoughtfully, For more than simple niceties. But for some futile things unsaid I should say all is done for us; Yet I have wondered how she smiled Beholding what was cavernous. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE GREAT RACE PASSES by EDGAR LEE MASTERS JUNE (1) by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT POETA FIT, NON NASCITUR by CHARLES LUTWIDGE DODGSON FUZZY-WUZZY' (SOUDAN EXPEDITIONARY FORCE) by RUDYARD KIPLING THE CAPTAINS OF THE YEARS by ARTHUR RAYMOND MACDOUGALL JR. THE LADY OF SHALOTT by ALFRED TENNYSON THE DOLLS by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS |