55025: The Unknown

<p dir="ltr"> She is most fair,<br> And when they see her pass<br> The poets' ladies<br> Look no more in the glass<br> But after her.<br> On a bleak moor<br> Running under the moon<br> She lures a poet,<br> Once proud or happy, soon<br> Far from his door.<br> Beside a train,<br> Because they saw her go,<br> Or failed to see her,<br> Travellers and watchers know<br> Another pain.<br> The simple lack<br> Of her is more to me<br> Than others' presence,<br> Whether life splendid be<br> Or utter black.<br> I have not seen,<br> I have no news of her;<br> I can tell only<br> She is not here, but there<br> She might have been.<br> She is to be kissed<br> Only perhaps by me;<br> She may be seeking<br> Me and no other; she<br> May not exist.<br></p>