Observant of the way she told So much of what was true, No vanity could long withhold2 Regard that was her due： She spared him the familiar guile3, So easily achieved, That only made a man to smile And left him undeceived.
Aware that all imagining Of more than what she meant Would urge an end of everything, He stayed； and when he went, They parted with a merry word That was to him as light As any that was ever heard Upon a starry4 night.
She smiled a little, knowing well That he would not remark The ruins of a day that fell Around her in the dark： He saw no ruins anywhere, Nor fancied there were scars On anyone who lingered there, Alone below the stars.
