Joys That Sting

Joys That Sting
by C.S. Lewis, from Poems, ed. Walter Hooper, 1964


Oh doe not die, says Donne, for I shall hate
All women so.  How false the sentence rings.
Women?  But in a life made desolate
It is the joys once shared that have the stings.

To take the old walks alone, or not at all,
To order one pint where I ordered two,
To think of, and then not to make, the small
Time-honoured joke (senseless to all but you);

To laugh (oh, one'll laugh), to talk upon
Themes that we talked upon when you were there,
To make some poor pretence of going on,
Be kind to one's old friends, and seem to care,

While no one (O God) through the years will say
The simplest, common word in just your way.