Come out… out
To this inevitable night of mine
Oh you drinker of new wine,
Here's pageantry… Here's carnival,
Rich dusk, dim streets and all
The whispering of city night…
I have closed my book of fading harmonies,
(The shadows fell across me in the park)
And my soul was sad with violins and trees,
And I was sick for dark,
When suddenly it hastened by me, bringing
Thousands of lights, a haunting breeze,
And a night of streets and singing…
I shall know you by your eager feet
And by your pale, pale hair;
I'll whisper happy incoherent things
While I'm waiting for you there…
All the faces unforgettable in dusk
Will blend to yours,
And the footsteps like a thousand overtures
Will blend to yours,
And there will be more drunkenness than wine
In the softness of your eyes on mine…
Faint violins where lovely ladies dine,
The brushing of skirts, the voices of the night
And all the lure of friendly eyes… Ah there
We'll drift like summer sounds upon the summer air…
Published in Nassau Literary Magazine magazine (April 1918).
Not illustrated.