Fleming Helphenstine by Edwin Arlington Robinson

AT first I thought there was a superfine

Persuasion in his face; but the free glow

That filled it when he stopped and cried, "Hollo!"

Shone joyously, and so I let it shine.

He said his name was Fleming Helphenstine,

But be that as it may; - I only know

He talked of this and that and So-and-So, / And laughed and chaffed like any friend of mine.

But soon, with a queer, quick frown, he looked at me, / And I looked hard at him; and there we gazed

In a strained way that made us cringe and wince:

Then, with a wordless clogged apology

That sounded half confused and half amazed, / He dodged, - and I have never seen him since.