Children of the Night

On the Night of a Friend's Wedding

     If ever I am old, and all alone,
     I shall have killed one grief, at any rate;
     For then, thank God, I shall not have to wait
     Much longer for the sheaves that I have sown.
     The devil only knows what I have done,
     But here I am, and here are six or eight
     Good friends, who most ingenuously prate
     About my songs to such and such a one.

     But everything is all askew to-night, —
     As if the time were come, or almost come,
     For their untenanted mirage of me
     To lose itself and crumble out of sight,
     Like a tall ship that floats above the foam
     A little while, and then breaks utterly.