 | The Poems of A. C. Benson |  |
122
MOLINOS
Oh, I wait from hour to hour,
Just wait what the next may bring;
A blossom, a bud, a flower,
Or a bitter crawling thing.
I think, when the tense will bends,
Of all I have missed or marred;
Yet I know it is God who sends,
And 'tis not so hard.
Just wait what the next may bring;
A blossom, a bud, a flower,
Or a bitter crawling thing.
I think, when the tense will bends,
Of all I have missed or marred;
Yet I know it is God who sends,
And 'tis not so hard.
I looked in the years gone by
For great flowing gifts from His hand;
I stared at the fathomless sky,
And knew I should understand;
Now the folk pass on in the street,
And rarely stop at my gate,
I bless them, the careless feet,
Though I only wait.
For great flowing gifts from His hand;
I stared at the fathomless sky,
And knew I should understand;
Now the folk pass on in the street,
And rarely stop at my gate,
I bless them, the careless feet,
Though I only wait.
Through the open windows the sun
Shines rarely, parting the gloom;
He stays o'er his course be run
To enliven the lonely room;
Yet over the racing rack
He shines without stint or stain,
The winds blow keen at his back,
And shall I complain?
Shines rarely, parting the gloom;
He stays o'er his course be run
To enliven the lonely room;
123
He shines without stint or stain,
The winds blow keen at his back,
And shall I complain?
Ah yes! I can wait and smile,
I can scan the long road where it lies,
Like a ribbon for many a mile,
Till it melt in the infinite skies;
And when I have watched my fill,
And the chill eve cometh late,
Let me say, I have learned thy will,
I can wait, still wait.
I can scan the long road where it lies,
Like a ribbon for many a mile,
Till it melt in the infinite skies;
And when I have watched my fill,
And the chill eve cometh late,
Let me say, I have learned thy will,
I can wait, still wait.
| The Poems of A. C. Benson | |