Elegy
(with apologies to Thomas Gray)
The curfew tolls the knell of parting day;
The traffic jam grinds slowly down the street.
I gaze into the future, far away,
To scry some distant day we might next meet.
The streetlights start to flicker dimly on.
The cars edge forward, grumbling, one by one;
My ears hear just your voice, that now is gone;
Alas too soon, what had but late begun.
I lean towards the window; and the pane
Is softened with my breath upon its chill,
And in that gentle mist I see again
Your face; and wish that I might see it still.
I sigh, and bow my head, and close my eyes.
What value sinking thus in what is past?
My heart may yearn; my sombre mind denies
That joy on earth so full could ever last.
But ’gainst the throb of engines in the dusk
Still strong there beats my heart’s own steady beat.
So long as grain and germ lie yet in husk,
Still we might grow once more. Not yet, defeat.
I turn away, and face the empty room,
Where still I hold for you eternal place:
To hear once more your merry, tinkling laugh;
To see once more your bright, young, pretty face.
Ah me. The traffic ebbs, as eve draws dark,
And night owls’ hoots replace the petrol whine.
I must still face the truth, however stark:
You never were, you never will be, mine.
The day is done; and heavy is my tread,
As, one by one, I climb the lonely stair.
I sink at last into my chilly bed,
And tears arise, because you are not there.
I cannot sleep, but cannot stay awake.
Already I foresee the endless night:
May Providence have mercy, for my sake;
And grant a day when I might see your light.