The Red-Haired Man

But what is it that I have done to you:
Why did you go away so suddenly:
Is it that I am ugly: is it true
That I am very ugly: did you see
Me peeping like a satyr through a tree:
Was it my ugly face that frightened you?

Was it my ugly face, say, was it so:
Was it my figure, tell me, am I lame:
Do I go hopping like a wounded crow
Under a hedge : come, speak to me, my dame!
Or have you heard of me an evil fame:
Is that the reason why you had to go?

You had to go ! Or did you go for fun,
To see if I would come and search for you?
If it be thus, behold ! the game is done,
For I am seeking, calling, torn in two,
Lost and bewildered ! what am I to do
To bring you back again, my hope, my sun!

My hope, my sun, my only thing of true:
My promise and my treasure, my delight:
My inmost, secret dream that no one knew:
My sun that shines upon me in the night:
My moon that looks at me when day is bright:
What is it, then, that I have done to you?

Songs From The Clay [1915]