《A Wife in London》 oxRu:+N h'bxgIl'` I — The Tragedy @/9>/?JP She sits in the tawny vapour zIL.R#|D= That the City lanes have uprolled, @=9QV3D Behind whose webby fold on fold W&"FejD Like a waning taper `1P
& The street-lamp glimmers cold. 3 3V/<v 7S Qu A messenger's knock cracks smartly, B!5gD Flashed news is in her hand k~?@~xm,R Of meaning it dazes to understand Awj`6GeJ Though shaped so shortly: 8z+ CYeV He—has fallen—in the far South Land... (YR1ML3N 4fN<pG, II — The Irony 2]7nw1& 'Tis the morrow; the fog hangs thicker, kqyY:J The postman nears and goes: i^n&K:6 A letter is brought whose lines disclose }SYvGp{J, By the firelight flicker XW19hG His hand, whom the worm now knows: GUK/Xiu u^`B#b' Fresh—firm—penned in highest feather — \dP2xou= Page-full of his hoped return, }NUP[% And of home-planned jaunts by brake and burn 8T%z{ A1T In the summer weather, Kp"o0fh<9 And of new love that they would learn. |