Love's Patience
I learn to lag behind my life's desire,
That I, impelled not rashly to despair,
May rather guide still hope to some sweet air
Of high achievement where, with statelier fire,
Nearer the stars, my passion may aspire!
Slow-tongued Experience teaches me to bear
On lips more patient Love's impatient prayer,
With toiling hands to weave my dream's attire!
Yet, oh, when fragrant evening dims the world,
What moon-flames burn in all the lamps of dew!
What lonely roses lift their hearts impearled —
What silence waits the step and voice of you!
Then, then, all fails; my empty arms outstart
For one brief hour to strain you to my heart!
That I, impelled not rashly to despair,
May rather guide still hope to some sweet air
Of high achievement where, with statelier fire,
Nearer the stars, my passion may aspire!
Slow-tongued Experience teaches me to bear
On lips more patient Love's impatient prayer,
With toiling hands to weave my dream's attire!
Yet, oh, when fragrant evening dims the world,
What moon-flames burn in all the lamps of dew!
What lonely roses lift their hearts impearled —
What silence waits the step and voice of you!
Then, then, all fails; my empty arms outstart
For one brief hour to strain you to my heart!
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