Indifference

A poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay

I said,--for Love was laggard, O, Love was slow to come,--
"I'll hear his step and know his step when I am warm in bed;
But I'll never leave my pillow, though there be some
As would let him in--and take him in with tears!" I said.
I lay,--for Love was laggard, O, he came not until dawn,--
I lay and listened for his step and could not get to sleep;
And he found me at my window with my big cloak on,
All sorry with the tears some folks might weep!

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