Celia Thaxter

Impatience

E. L.

ONLY to follow you, dearest, only to find you!
    Only to feel for one instant the touch of your hand;
Only to tell you once of the love you left behind you, —
    To say the world without you is like a desert of sand;
 
    That the flowers have lost their perfume, the rose its splendor,
    And the charm of nature is lost in a dull eclipse;
    That joy went out with the glance of your eyes so tender,
And beauty passed with the lovely smile on your lips.
 
I did not dream it was you who kindled the morning
    And folded the evening purple in peace so sweet;
    But you took the whole world’s rapture without a warning,
And left me naught save the print of your patient feet.
 
I count the days and the hours that hold us asunder:
    I long for Death’s friendly hand which shall rend in twain,
With the glorious lightning flash and the golden thunder,
    These clouds of the earth, and give me my own again!
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