... off, and, piping-hot, The supper steamed in wooden bowls. Yet, she had hardly touched a bite; And never raised her eyes all night To mine again; but on the coals, As I sat staring, she had stared— The black curls, shining round her head From under the red kerchief, tied So nattily beneath her chin— And she had stolen off to bed Quite early, looking dazed and scared. Then, all agape and sleepy-eyed, Ere long the others had turned in: And I was rid of that fat man, Who slouched away ... — Georgian Poetry 1911-12 • Various
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