by: Vincent O'Sullivan
- HE sick
- Through the window the fall of snow;
- She stands under the palm-trees watching
- The slow black caravans go.
- She sees him by the window watching
- The vacant snow-flakes fall;
- He sees her in the hot sun standing
- Sorrowful, white, and tall.
- She hears him through the snow telling her
- All in his heart to tell--
- Beneath the moveless palm-trees
- In the dead glare at the well.
POEMS BY VINCENT O'SULLIVAN
"Exiles" is reprinted
from The Masque of Poets. Ed. Edward J. O'Brien. New York:
Dodd, Mead and Company, 1918.