Poetry Archives

With the man I love who loves me not,
 I walked in the street-lamps’ flare;
We watched the world go home that night
 In a flood through Union Square.

I leaned to catch the words he said
 That were light as a snowflake falling;
Ah well that he never leaned to hear
 The words my heart was calling.

And on we walked and on we walked
 Past the fiery lights of the picture shows—
Where the girls with thirsty eyes go by
 On the errand each man knows.

And on we walked and on we walked,
 At the door at last we said good-bye;
I knew by his smile he had not heard
 My heart’s unuttered cry.

With the man I love who loves me not
 I walked in the street-lamps’ flare—
But oh, the girls who can ask for love
 In the lights of Union Square.