I THEY stood on either side the gate -- Though fastened with the hands of fate A touch might lift the latch's weight. The moonlight, with a faded grace, Fell o'er the whiteness of her face Like some soiled veil of bridal lace. The fan she held went fluttering About her mouth on restless wing As though it were a wounded thing. And in her breast an ache of dread Held back the word she would have said, And sent a weary sigh instead. II He waited, with his eager eyes Half muffled in a weak disguise Of carelessness and cold surprise. Within his breast he heard the moan: "How desolate and all alone, And pitiless my heart has grown!" And yet a nameless ache of dread Held back the word he would have said, And sent a weary sign instead. The long, black shadows of the trees Whose branches wavered in the breeze, Fell o'er them like their destinies. They parted. Yet the wild wind saith That two fair ghosts with failing breath Walk hand in hand the path of death. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EXILED by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY AT LORD'S [CRICKET GROUND] by FRANCIS THOMPSON THE FOE AT THE GATES by JOHN DICKSON BRUNS SPRING FANTASIES: 6. AS FLUTES OF ARCADY by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON |