I.
Room after room, I hunt the house through We inhabit together.
Heart, fear nothing, for, heart, thou shalt find her---Next time, herself!---not the trouble behind her Left in the curtain, the couch's perfume!
As she brushed it, the cornice-wreath blossomed anew:
Yon looking-glass gleaned at the wave of her feather.
II.
Yet the day wears, And door succeeds door;
I try the fresh fortune---Range the wide house from the wing to the centre.
Still the same chance! She goes out as I enter.
Spend my whole day in the quest,---who cares?
But 'tis twilight, you see,---with such suites to explore, Such closets to search, such alcoves to importune!
