We two learned the lesson together,
The oldest of all, yet so new
To myself, and I'm wondering whether
It was utterly novel to you?
The pages—you seemed to have known them.
The pictures that changed 'neath our eyes;
Alas! by what hand were you shown them,
That I find you so womanly wise?
Is it strange that my hand on your shoulder
In the dusk of the day should be placed?
Did you say to yourself, 'Were he older
His arm had encircled my waist'?
If it be so, so be it, fair teacher;
I sit at your feet and am wise,
For each page of the book is a feature,
And the light of the reading, your eyes.
We have met, and the meeting is over;
We must part, and the parting is now;
We have played out the game—I, boy-lover,
In earnest, and you, dearest, how?