On a rainy night by the river, the speaker sees a woman asleep alone on a bench and decides to give her money. But as he slips the coins into her hand, the act becomes strangely intimate: he notices the soft mound of her thumb and the hollow of her palm. She wakes suddenly, looks at him, looks at the money, then back at him, and he panics and runs. The poem leaves his motives unclear even to himself. What should feel like simple charity instead leaves him feeling exposed, almost guilty. The wet, black streets and furtive rain create a tense, lonely mood, and the final line—“The touch was on the quick”—suggests the encounter touched a raw nerve in him, stirring something he wants to forget.
Embankment at Night: Charity — Summary
By the river In the black wet night as the furtive rain slinks down, Dropping and starting from sleep Alone on a seat A woman crouches.
I must go back to her.
I want to give her Some money. Her hand slips out of the breast of her gown Asleep. My fingers creep Carefully over the sweet Thumb-mound, into the palm's deep pouches.
So, the gift!
God, how she starts! And looks at me, and looks in the palm of her hand! And again at me! I turn and run Down the Embankment, run for my life.
But why?--why?
Because of my heart's Beating like sobs, I come to myself, and stand In the street spilled over splendidly With wet, flat lights. What I've done I know not, my soul is in strife.
The touch was on the quick. I want to forget.