 | Plays and poems |  |
433
[To love thee absent were sufficient pain]
To love thee absent were sufficient pain,Even though that pain might not outlast a day;
And with to-morrow's sunset I could say,
“Lo! moonrise comes, and love shines out again!”
Or stretch the term a week; I might restrain
This heart until the Sabbath morn should lay
Its peace upon it. Months might glide away;
And I could count the sunshine and the rain,
And sum them up in flowers, to prophesy
Thy fragrant coming. Though a year would be
A weary time, I could wait patiently
To hear Christ's birthday clamored through the sky
By the rejoicing bells: but who shall try
To fix time's measures on eternity?
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