Charlotte Mary Mew (15 November 1869 – 24 March 1928 / London)
Fin de Fête
Sweetheart, for such a day
One mustn't grudge the score;
Here, then, it's all to pay,
It's Good-night at the door.
Good-night and good dreams to you,—
Do you remember the picture-book thieves
Who left two children sleeping in a wood the long night through,
And how the birds came down and covered them with leaves?
So you and I should have slept,—But now,
Oh, what a lonely head!
With just the shadow of a waving bough
In the moonlight over your bed.
Comments about this poem (Fin de Fête by Charlotte Mary Mew )
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