December snowdrifts cloak our streets,
And you and your words I recall;
Amidst the snowy silver's fall,
Your shoulders shake like shameful sheets.
In whitest lace of prim Marseilles,
The doorman's gaze you did divert;
In sunken sofas like squatting birds,
Admiring suitors marked your way.
The butler brings us spice-strewn tea;
The piano wails in someone's arms;
But you just chanced to look at me,
In melancholy and alarm.
And gently all of you arose,
As inspiration and day's dreams;
Against my yearnings all this seems
Ineffable, and sadness grows.
Between us a pure bond was made
To Haydn's sweetest melodies;
But then your husband touched your knees,
As hallway drafts his whiskers grazed.
To my poor soul alone there howls,
As I this snowy scene reface,
The recollection of those hours,
And how they passed without a trace.