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.”

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.

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?”