Brighton Beach

A flash in your eye for a minute—
An answering light in mine
What was the mischief in it?
Who but we two could divine—

Before those eyelids droop 
Do I read  your riddle—
Well I take it an angel may stoop
Sometimes, to the nether Hell.

We'll argue it this way then
Tho' it sound a trifle inhuman—
I am not your man among men,
Nor you my first dearest woman

Each touched some hidden chord 
In the other's heart for a minute, 
That sprang into light at a word 
And pulsed with the music in it—

The veil was torn asunder
As I sighed and pleaded and wooed 
And we saw the truth there under 
As it stands—uncouth and nude.

Now back to the work again—
In the old blind tread-mill fashion—
False hope, false joy, false pain,
Rechauffé of by gone passion!