| Fuess and Stearns, comps. The Little Book of Society Verse. 1922. | | | | Five O’Clock | | By David Morton |
| | | IN the old times of golden-gowned Romance, | |
| When deeds wore grace, and color clung to speech, | |
| When days were rich in splendid circumstance, | |
| And living had a gesture and a reach— | |
| Then had we been what figures in a tale! | 5 |
| You, with your crown of bronze and cloudy hair, | |
| Child of what castle—till my dinted mail | |
| Gleamed on your drawbridge, and you met me there. | |
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| Who knows what roads we might have gone together, | |
| Helped by what friars to evening crust and ale, | 10 |
| With candles sputtering in the windy weather…. | |
| Something … my soul remembers … and gives hail | |
| To you who sit there, pouring out my tea, | |
| Something … remembers … “Yes, ah, thank you—three.” | | | | |
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