In Our Square Poem by Dollie Radford

LAST night again we saw him there
Beneath the plane-tree in the Square,
Our student neighbour.
He watches every evening now
Our garden tennis, and somehow
It seemed a labour
The running round, and futile stretching
At random balls while he was sketching
That foolish Polly
Who quietly stood, with arm up-raised,
The while her junior partner praised
Her style of volley.
I passed so near him, as we played,
He looked so peaceful in the shade,
Amid our bustle.
He draws and sketches all the day,
And studies through the night, they say,
Some bone or muscle.
And is this why his cheek is pale,
And why he looks so thin and frail,
And is such labour
The reason that his coat is bare,
And worn, and marks him everywhere--
Our student neighbour?
I know that I shall almost cry,
To-morrow when we pass him by,
All bound to-gether
For Cornish seas, while he--but there
Miss Polly's always in the Square
This summer weather.