THE OLD GOWN

I have seen her in gowns the brightest,

Of azure, green, and red,

And in the simplest, whitest,

Muslined from heel to head;

I have watched her walking, riding,

Shade-flecked by a leafy tree,

Or in fixed thought abiding

By the foam-fingered sea.

In woodlands I have known her,

When boughs were mourning loud,

In the rain-reek she has shown her

Wild-haired and watery-browed.

And once or twice she has cast me

As she pomped along the street

Court-clad, ere quite she had passed me,

A glance from her chariot-seat.

But in my memoried passion

For evermore stands she

In the gown of fading fashion

She wore that night when we,

Doomed long to part, assembled

In the snug small room; yea, when

She sang with lips that trembled,

“Shall I see his face again?”