The rat

Pain gnaws at my heart like a rat that gnaws at a beam

In the dusty dark of a ghost frequented house;

And I dream of the days forgotten, of love the dream.

The desire of her eyes unappeased, and the peace of her brows.

I can hear the old rat gnaw in the dark by night.

In the deep overshadowing dust that the years have cast;

He gnaws at my heart that is empty of all delight,

He stirs the dust where the feet of my dreams had passed.