Cross Roads

THE LADY ACROSS THE COURT

     She only comes when night is near,
        And stands a moment quietly
     Beside her window, in the dusk—
        She lives across the court from me—
     And though I cannot see her eyes
        Because she is too far away,
     I somehow feel that they are kind,
        And very soft, and widely gray!

     Her hands are only dim white blurs,
        That rest against the window pane;
     And yet I know that they are firm,
        And cool and sweet as April rain.
     And, oh, I cannot help but wish
        As, through the dark, I go to bed,
     That they might rest a moment like
        A little prayer upon my head!

     She only comes when night is near,
        I do not know who she can be;
     I never see her anywhere
        But just across the court from me....
     I am so small the curtains hide
        The wistful smiles that I have smiled,
     And yet I, somehow, think she feels
        The love of me—a lonely child.