The Poetry Corner

Indifference

By Edna St. Vincent Millay

I said,--for Love was laggard, O, Love was slow to come,-- "I'll hear his step and know his step when I am warm in bed; But I'll never leave my pillow, though there be some As would let him in--and take him in with tears!" I said. I lay,--for Love was laggard, O, he came not until dawn,-- I lay and listened for his step and could not get to sleep; And he found me at my window with my big cloak on, All sorry with the tears some folks might weep!