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Poem by Thomas MacDonagh


My Love To-Night


My love to-night, her arm across her face,
    Has wept for me, wandering she knows not where,
And wept the while she suffered his embrace,
    Letting him think she wept for other care.

Weep, O my love, for your own piteous fate,
    For all that now is lost of your love's right:
I wait alone, without -- I tearless wait,
    For you, my love, more bitter is this night.



Thomas MacDonagh


Thomas MacDonagh's other poems:
  1. Barbara: Born 24th March, 1915
  2. I Heard a Music Sweet To-day
  3. The Rain It Raineth
  4. To a Wise Man
  5. In an Island


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