The Brute

Still she said No and No,
And begged me loose her hand :
I let it go,
But gripped her dress instead:
I could not stand
For swimming of my head.

And then a sudden weakness came upon me
And my trembling knees
Went shaking to the ground.
Ah misery !
She would not listen,
Stared at me and frowned.

I begged, implored . . .
All the love I'd stored
Came gasping in a net
Of tangled pleading,
Sigh and pant and fret,
And words disjointed,
Bitten through and bleeding.

But she went No and No and No again,
And No for ever,
Spite of all endeavour;
Until like wintry rain
That pattering word whirled on my maddened head
And froze me furious while she thought me dead.

But then with icy lips I cursed her there,
Eyes, nose and teeth and hair;
I damned her body, bones and blood — and then
She scuttled homewards like a frightened hen.

The Hill of Vision [1912]