YOU stood beside the flowers, <br />Yourself a flower; <br />And on your face <br />The twilight stayed another hour, <br />It shone so pale; <br />And all around men talked as in a market-place. <br />I heard them talk, and felt <br />No interest stir <br />In what they said. <br />Lilies were nigh you, and around you were <br />The lights of love, <br />And all about the world moved on with nervous tread. <br />I heard it not; for down <br />And round about <br />My soul you drew <br />The veils that shut the loud earth out, <br />And I and you <br />Were there alone — no one beside but I and you! <br />What words were those we said? <br />Old ones, perchance, <br />Pale with the pain <br />Of all who've kissed, and talked romance, <br />And said farewell, <br />And mixed their tears and kissed, and sighed — and sighed in vain. <br />We stood a sainted while, <br />And then your hand <br />Sought to be free, <br />And you were gone; and all the land <br />Was under gloom, <br />And lamps were lit for other men, but none for me. <br />I stood and watched you go, <br />And suddenly <br />The loud world grew <br />Like some great-voiced, insetting sea; <br />And men went by, <br />Talking of trade and war and all but love and you.<br /><br />Roderic Quinn<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/romance-in-the-market-place/
