Harriet Monroe, ed. (18601936). Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. 191222. | | Vain Hiding | By Margaret Widdemer |
| I SAID, I shall find peace now, for my love has never been | |
Here in the little room, in the quiet place; | |
The walls shall not quiver around me, nor fires begin, | |
And I shall forget his voice and perhaps his face, | |
And be still for a little space. | 5 |
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But the thought of my love beat wild against the silencing doors | |
There in the quivering air, in the throbbing room, | |
Till his step strode quick and light against the echoing floors, | |
And the light of his voice was there for the placid gloom | |
And his presence a shed perfume. | 10 |
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So I said, There is no peace more, for the place can never be | |
Where the thought of him cannot come, cannot burn me through, | |
For the thought of his touch is my flesh, and his voice is a voice in me, | |
And what is the use of all you may say and do | |
When love is a part of you? | 15 | | |
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