University of Virginia Library


220

XXIV.
“THY MANY WEARY YEARS”

Thy many weary years were not too long
As preparation for the coming dower
Of love,—God's own unsearchable white flower
Which now thou hast; thou hast it in this song.
The weary waiting years of tedious wrong
Wrought in thee thine intenser passion-power,
And now I loving sing beside thy bower,—
Myself through equal suffering purged and strong.
And so we meet. Thou art ready now to bear
The burning love-god's passionate embrace:—
Love, long from thee withheld, is doubly fair;
Sweeter is love, and sweeter is thy face
To love for thy lone hill-top's icy air
And all thy patient running of life's race.