A Glimpse

 A GLIMPSE, through an interstice caught, 
Of a crowd of workmen and drivers in a bar-room, around the stove, late of a winter
 night—And I
 unremark’d seated in a corner; 
Of a youth who loves me, and whom I love, silently approaching, and seating himself near,
 that
 he
 may hold me by the hand; 
A long while, amid the noises of coming and going—of drinking and oath and smutty
 jest, 
There we two, content, happy in being together, speaking little, perhaps not a word.
 

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