V

Alone, alone, alone,

She who had loved and known

On other nights like this

Strong arms about her and many a kiss

And words of gentle tone.

Alone, alone, alone,

A woman she had known

Like a figure carved from stone

Held a letter in her hand

She scarce could understand

Of words which hardly could be read

“Goodbye — There is nothing to be said.”

Ah! God, if she had known.

Alone, alone, alone,

She who had longed for love by stealth

As a gold-mad miser longs for wealth

Or a poet longs for fame,

Her seared numb body had just an ache

For a pitiful pitiless last mistake

And the smirch upon her name.