Poems of Passion by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
page 14 of 108 (12%)
page 14 of 108 (12%)
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How can I wait? Of old, the rapid hours Refused to pause or loiter with me long; But now they idly fill their hands with flowers, And make no haste, but slowly stroll among The summer blooms, not heeding my one song, How can I wait? How can I wait? The nights alone are kind; They reach forth to a future day, and bring Sweet dreams of you to people all my mind; And time speeds by on light and airy wing. I feast upon your face, I no more sing, How can I wait? How can I wait? The morning breaks the spell A pitying night has flung upon my soul. You are not near me, and I know full well My heart has need of patience and control; Before we meet, hours, days, and weeks must roll. How can I wait? How can I wait? Oh, love, how can I wait Until the sunlight of your eyes shall shine Upon my world that seems so desolate? Until your hand-clasp warms my blood like wine; Until you come again, oh, love of mine, How can I wait? |
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