Hart Crane


It sheds a shy solemnity, 
This lamp in our poor room. 
O grey and gold amenity, -- 
Silence and gentle gloom! 

Wide from the world, a stolen hour 
We claim, and none may know 
How love blooms like a tardy flower 
Here in the day's after-glow. 

And even should the world break in 
With jealous threat and guile, 
The world, at last, must bow and win 
Our pity and a smile.