RONDEAU OF SARUM CLOSE
In Sarum Close, when she had said her say,He stood bare-headed where dim vapours layHeavy on vacant lawn, athwart the stoneOf that great pile that stands unsought, alone,—Himself as still and derelict as they.Here, when morn’s gleaming hand had rolled awayFrom the green plot of this their week-old playHer misty curtain, each to each was shown,In Sarum Close.Void the discoloured fane before him lay,Void the dark-sodded precincts,—far awayOne closed a window, night’s appeal had grownPerchance too urgent, even as his ownHad seemed to her whose friendship did with dayIn Sarumclose.
In Sarum Close, when she had said her say,He stood bare-headed where dim vapours layHeavy on vacant lawn, athwart the stoneOf that great pile that stands unsought, alone,—Himself as still and derelict as they.Here, when morn’s gleaming hand had rolled awayFrom the green plot of this their week-old playHer misty curtain, each to each was shown,In Sarum Close.Void the discoloured fane before him lay,Void the dark-sodded precincts,—far awayOne closed a window, night’s appeal had grownPerchance too urgent, even as his ownHad seemed to her whose friendship did with dayIn Sarumclose.
In Sarum Close, when she had said her say,He stood bare-headed where dim vapours layHeavy on vacant lawn, athwart the stoneOf that great pile that stands unsought, alone,—Himself as still and derelict as they.Here, when morn’s gleaming hand had rolled awayFrom the green plot of this their week-old playHer misty curtain, each to each was shown,In Sarum Close.
Void the discoloured fane before him lay,Void the dark-sodded precincts,—far awayOne closed a window, night’s appeal had grownPerchance too urgent, even as his ownHad seemed to her whose friendship did with dayIn Sarumclose.