Disillusion

You came and stood there in the failing light,

A sorceress who told her mysteries.

At that there grew behind my eyes a sight

More beautiful than any woman is:

And to my blood a lifting joy came in

And warmed me; as of old I flashed to try

Swiftly what that swift thing might be . . . and then

I saw that there was only you and I

In that small room whose fire was almost dead.

Of course there were the chairs, a book or so,

And tea set out . . . I got my hat and said

That it was really time for me to go.