Think not, because I wonder where you fled, <br />That I would lift a pin to see you there; <br />You may, for me, be prowling anywhere, <br />So long as you show not your little head: <br />No dark and evil story of the dead <br />Would leave you less pernicious or less fair— <br />Not even Lilith, with her famous hair; <br />And Lilith was the devil, I have read. <br /> <br />I cannot hate you, for I loved you then. <br />The woods were golden then. There was a road <br />Through beeches; and I said their smooth feet showed <br />Like yours. Truth must have heard me from afar, <br />For I shall never have to learn again <br />That yours are cloven as no beech’s are.<br /><br />Edwin Arlington Robinson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/another-dark-lady/
