 | Poems by Julia C. R. Dorr |  |
470
AFTER LONG WAITING
After long waiting when my soul puts off
This mortal vesture and is free to go
Through all God's universe in search of thee,
How shall it find thee, O, beloved and lost?
This mortal vesture and is free to go
Through all God's universe in search of thee,
How shall it find thee, O, beloved and lost?
Through the wide, shadowy spaces, through the deep
Profound abysses where the dim spheres roll;
Through starry mazes and through violet seas,
And purple reaches stretched from world to world;
Profound abysses where the dim spheres roll;
Through starry mazes and through violet seas,
And purple reaches stretched from world to world;
Beyond the bounds of all it hath conceived,
Where knowledge falters and where reason fails,
And only faith's strong pinion dares to soar,
How shall it make its lonely way to thee?
Where knowledge falters and where reason fails,
And only faith's strong pinion dares to soar,
How shall it make its lonely way to thee?
In that far realm what myriads abide!
When I have reached it, wilt thou find me, dear?
One grain of sand beside the unresting sea—
One blade of grass where endless prairies roll!
When I have reached it, wilt thou find me, dear?
One grain of sand beside the unresting sea—
One blade of grass where endless prairies roll!
I shall have changed, O love, I shall have changed!
The face you knew I shall no longer wear;
For few or many though the years may be,
My youth fled with thee to the shore unknown.
The face you knew I shall no longer wear;
For few or many though the years may be,
My youth fled with thee to the shore unknown.
I have grown older here, whilst thou beneath
The tree of life hast found thy youth again;
I have grown faint, while strong, exultant, free,
Thy swift, glad feet scale the blue heights of God.
The tree of life hast found thy youth again;
471
Thy swift, glad feet scale the blue heights of God.
O friend and lover, go thou not too far!
Delay, delay, thine upward soaring flight,
Lest when I come, all tremulous with joy,
I fail to find thee on the heavenly hills!
Delay, delay, thine upward soaring flight,
Lest when I come, all tremulous with joy,
I fail to find thee on the heavenly hills!
| Poems by Julia C. R. Dorr | |