XI

I see it all by the candlelight and you, Dinner and wine and words spoken to remind me Of my wilting heart, my two trembling knees And all the rest, all the past too— This weak scene that once was set In some romantic Portuguese sonnet: You would not consent if you knew the truth; I am no prophet, and you would not sit At a table with a dreaming fool. You remove your candles, while I remind Myself of the fool’s dinner and the wine. I am struck dumb; you leave the room, And I do not follow. There is not enough time To say I am not all unworthy, and that I love you.