A Broken Appointment

You did not come, 

And marching Time drew on, and wore me numb,— 

Yet less for loss of your dear presence there 

Than that I thus found lacking in your make 

That high compassion which can overbear 

Reluctance for pure lovingkindness’ sake 

Grieved I, when, as the hope-hour stroked its sum, 

You did not come. 

You love not me, 

And love alone can lend you loyalty; 

–I know and knew it. But, unto the store 

Of human deeds divine in all but name, 

Was it not worth a little hour or more 

To add yet this: Once you, a woman, came 

To soothe a time-torn man; even though it be 

You love not me? 

-o0o-