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Tact
Edwin Arlington Robinson

Observant of the way she told
 So much of what was true,
No vanity could long withhold
 Regard that was her due:
She spared him the familiar guile,
 So easily achieved,
That only made a man to smile
 And left him undeceived.

Aware that all imagining
 Of more than what she meant
Would urge an end of everything,
 He stayed; and when he went,
They parted with a merry word
 That was to him as light
As any that was ever heard
 Upon a starry night.

She smiled a little, knowing well
 That he would not remark
The ruins of a day that fell
 Around her in the dark:
He saw no ruins anywhere,
 Nor fancied there were scars
On anyone who lingered there,
 Alone below the stars.