Down the long quay the slow boats glide, <br />While here and there a house looms white <br />Against the gloom of the waterside, <br />And some high window throws a light <br />As they sail out into the night. <br /> <br />At dawn they will bring in again <br />To women knitting on the quay <br />Who wait for him, their man of men; <br />I stand with them, and watch the sea <br />Which may have taken mine from me. <br /> <br />Just so the long days come and go. <br />The nights, ma Doué! the nights are cold! <br />Our Lady's heart is as frozen snow, <br />Since this one sin I have not told; <br />And I shall die or perhaps grow old <br /> <br />Before he comes. The foreign ships <br />Bring many a one of face and name <br />As strange as his, to buy your lips, <br />A gold piece for a scarlet shame <br />Like mine. But mine was not the same. <br /> <br />One night was ours, one short grey day <br />Of sudden sin, unshrived, untold. <br />He found me, and I lost the way <br />To Paradise for him. I sold <br />My soul for love and not for gold <br /> <br />He bought my soul, but even so, <br />My face is all that he has seen, <br />His is the only face I know, <br />And in the dark church, like a screen. <br />It shuts God out; it comes between; <br /> <br />While in some narrow foreign street <br />Or loitering on the crowded quay, <br />Who knows what others he may meet <br />To turn his eyes away from me? <br />Many are fair to such as he! <br /> <br />There is but one for such as I <br />To love, to hate, to hunger for; <br />I shall, perhaps, grow old and die, <br />With one short day to spend and store, <br />One night, in all my life, no more. <br /> <br />Just so the long days come and go, <br />Yet this one sin I will not tell <br />Though Mary's heart is as frozen snow <br />And all nights are cold for one warmed too well. <br />But, oh! ma Doué! the nights of Hell!<br /><br />Charlotte Mary Mew<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/p-cheresse-2/
