Villa Pauline

But, ah! before he came You were only a name: Four little rooms and a cupboard Without a bone, And I was alone! Now with your windows wide Everything from outside Of sun and flower and loveliness Comes in to hide, To play, to laugh on the stairs, To catch unawares Our childish happiness, And to glide Through the four little rooms on tip-toe With lifted finger, Pretending we shall not know When the shutters are shut That they still linger Long, long after. Lying close in the dark He says to me: “Hark, Isn’t that laughter?”