The Poetry Corner

The Constant Lover

By Richard Le Gallienne

I see fair women all the day, They pass and pass - and go; I almost dream that they are shades Within a shadow-show. Their beauty lays no hand on me, They talk - - I hear no word; I ask my eyes if they have seen, My ears if they have heard. For why - within the north countree A little maid, I know, Is waiting through the days for me, Drear days so long and slow.