Dear, though the night is gone
Its dream still haunts today
That brought us to a room
Cavernous, lofty as
A railway terminus
And crowded in that gloom
Were beds, and we in one
In a far corner lay
Our whisper woke no clocks
We kissed and I was glad
At everything you did
Indifferent to those
Who sat with hostile eyes
In pairs on every bed
Arms round each other’s neck
Inert and vaguely sad
O but what worm of guilt
Or what malignant doubt
Am I the victim of
That you then, unabashed
Did what I never wished
Confessed another lovе;
And I, submissive, felt
Unwanted and wеnt out?