The professor and other poems by Arthur Christopher Benson |
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| 22. | 22 PERPLEXITY |
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 | The professor and other poems |  |
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22
PERPLEXITY
Nay, there is something, something! she was sad
And silent; 'twas to pleasure me she smiled,
More like a child that suffers, a brave child,
Than one whose heart was virginal and glad.
And silent; 'twas to pleasure me she smiled,
More like a child that suffers, a brave child,
Than one whose heart was virginal and glad.
It seems as though there were some secret shrine
She dares not yet surrender: “Here, and here,”
She saith, “He shall be welcome; he is dear
And honoured;—yet my inmost heart is mine.”
She dares not yet surrender: “Here, and here,”
She saith, “He shall be welcome; he is dear
And honoured;—yet my inmost heart is mine.”
So one may linger by a minster-door,
When lawn and glaring roadway swim with heat,
And through the barred gate see the glimmering vault,
Cool marble tombs, and dim sepulchral floor,
And read he may not enter, may not halt
A moment there, where all is still and sweet.
When lawn and glaring roadway swim with heat,
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Cool marble tombs, and dim sepulchral floor,
And read he may not enter, may not halt
A moment there, where all is still and sweet.
| The professor and other poems | |