Page:Maud, and other poems.djvu/108

88 Or to say 'forgive the wrong,' Or to ask her, 'take me, sweet, To the regions of thy rest?'

But the broad light glares and beats, And the shadow flits and fleets And will not let me be; And I loathe the squares and streets, And the faces that one meets, Hearts with no love for me: Always I long to creep Into some still cavern deep, There to weep, and weep, and weep My whole soul out to thee.