Kicking my heels in the street, <br />Here at the edge of the pavement I wait for you, sweet, <br />Here in the crowd, the blent noises, blurred lights, of the street. <br /> <br />Under the archway sheer, <br />Sudden and black as a hole in the placarded wall, <br />Faces flicker and veer, <br />Wavering out of the darkness into the light, <br />Wavering back into night; <br />Under the archway, suddenly seen, the curls <br />And thin, bright faces of girls, <br />Roving eyes, and smiling lips, and the glance <br />Seeking, finding perchance, <br />Here at the edge of the pavement, there by the wall, <br />One face, out of them all. <br /> <br />Steadily, face after face, <br />Cheeks with the blush of the paint yet lingering, eyes <br />Still with their circle of black ... <br />But hers, but hers? <br />Rose-leaf cheeks, and flower-soft lips, and the grace <br />Of the vanishing Spring come back, <br />And a child's heart blithe in the sudden and sweet surprise, <br />Subtly expectant, that stirs <br />In the smile of her heart to my heart, of her eyes to my eyes<br /><br />Arthur Symons<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/at-the-stage-door-2/
