April '13

Beloved, we have known long hours
Of quietude, sweet paths of shadow.
Never a fear, yet we have confided
Wonderingly of what lay beyond.
I have said: "Low hillocks and
Sweet valleys, and the same familiar stars,
Made pale, mayhap by that illumination,
Awesome in its golden purity."

I have said: "Familiar mornings
With the waking birds." I have said:
"Fair nights wherein dreams weaved
Fantastically - old dreams." I have said:
"Familiar scenes and living dreams."
And thou, beloved, didst look at me
With sad, sweet eyes and smile,
Thy pale lips whispering: -
"Aye, all of this, and yet - and yet
My love is here."

Patience Worth