 | Claribel and Other Poems |  |
196
MAIDEN WISDOM
It is so hard to keep my lover in his sorrow,
When, O Love! this very moment I would pine to make him blest.
O wisest Mother! tell me, wherefore say To-morrow,
When there on the threshold waits my heart's expected guest?
When, O Love! this very moment I would pine to make him blest.
O wisest Mother! tell me, wherefore say To-morrow,
When there on the threshold waits my heart's expected guest?
Tell me, dear Mother! tell me, wherefore test him with denial,
When I know that he is true, for I would give him life or death?
Is there need to prove his honour? Is there any need of trial
When he tells me that he loves me and I listen with rapt breath?
When I know that he is true, for I would give him life or death?
Is there need to prove his honour? Is there any need of trial
When he tells me that he loves me and I listen with rapt breath?
When I answer, as you bade me, that he had best be waiting
Till proofs of love's reality and persistence can be had,
Then he laughing says—‘The birds are less cautious in their mating’
Or his eyelids droop so sadly that my darken'd heart is sad.
Till proofs of love's reality and persistence can be had,
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Or his eyelids droop so sadly that my darken'd heart is sad.
Be sure he's earnest, Mother! very true and pure and loving;
Could you see his heart as I do, you would say I might be sure:
And he looks, O so imploringly,—Even is there need of proving,
I would rather say—Dear Lover! I can trust you to endure.
Could you see his heart as I do, you would say I might be sure:
And he looks, O so imploringly,—Even is there need of proving,
I would rather say—Dear Lover! I can trust you to endure.
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