At first I thought there was a superfine <br />Persuasion in his face; but the free flow <br />That filled it when he stopped and cried, "Hollo!" <br />Shone joyously, and so I let it shine. <br />He said his name was Fleming Helphenstine, <br />But be that as it may;—I only know <br />He talked of this and that and So-and-So, <br />And laughed and chaffed like any friend of mine. <br /> <br />But soon, with a queer, quick frown, he looked at me, <br />And I looked hard at him; and there we gazed <br />In a strained way that made us cringe and wince: <br />Then, with a wordless clogged apology <br />That sounded half confused and half amazed, <br />He dodged,—and I have never seen him since.<br /><br />Edwin Arlington Robinson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/fleming-helphenstine/
