A GLIMPSE, through an interstice caught,Of a crowd of workmen and drivers in a bar-room, around the stove, late of a winter night—And I unremark'd, seated in a corner;Of a youth who loves me, and whom I love, silently ap- proaching, and seating himself near, that he may hold me by the hand;A long while, amid the noises of coming and going—of drinking and oath and smutty jest,There we two, content, happy in being together, speak- ing little, perhaps not a word.