by Edna St. Vincent Millay

I said, — for Love was laggard, O, Love was slow to come, —
   "I'll hear his step and know his step when I am warm in bed;
But I'll never leave my pillow, though there be some
   As would let him in — and take him in with tears!" I said.
I lay, — for Love was laggard, O, he came not until dawn, —
   I lay and listened for his step and could not get to sleep;
And he found me at my window with my big cloak on,
   All sorry with the tears some folks might weep!

Monadnock Valley Press > Millay