Five o Clock

Let us go far away from buttered toast,

And tea, and marmalade, and all of it.

The feathered jostling of their hats, the wit

Unhumorous I can not bear this host

Of warm, sweet women ! Everything offends.

The murmurous movement of each gleaming bead,

Sly laughter on soft lips that do not feed

So much on tea as on their absent friends.

I knew you understood because your eyes

Were beckoning across the crowd to me,

Oh Child, who have so strangely learned to be

Unconsciously, mysteriously wise!

We went away, unnoticed, from the room

Into the drip of slow, autumnal rain,

And laughed, and drew deep breath, and laughed again,

We were so glad to leave that candled gloom.

Through the wet dusk the leaves came fluttering

I felt one falling softly on my head

As I leaned down to kiss you and you said

Adorably, & quot; You re such a dear old thing ! & quot;