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Poem	How shall I wail, that wasn't meant for weeping? Love has run and left me, oh, what then? Dream, then, I must, who never can be sleeping; What if I should meet Love, once again? What if I met him, walking on the highway? Let him see how lightly I should care. He'd travel his way, I would follow my way; Hum a little song, and pass him there. What if at night, beneath a sky of ashes, He should seek my doorstep, pale with need? There could he lie, and dry would be my lashes; Let him stop his noise, and let me read. Oh, but I'm gay, that's better off without him; Would he'd come and see me, laughing here. Lord! Don't I know I'd have my arms about him, Crying to him, "Oh, come in, my dear!"
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