The Old Maid

I SAW her in a Broadway car, The woman I might grow to be; I felt my lover look at her And then turn suddenly to me.

Her hair was dull and drew no light And yet its color was as mine; Her eyes were strangely like my eyes Tho' love had never made them shine.

Her body was a thing grown thin, Hungry for love that never came; Her soul was frozen in the dark Unwarmed forever by love's flame.

I felt my lover look at her And then turn suddenly to me,-- His eyes were magic to defy The woman I shall never be.