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THE KISS.
47
   She waited for a word
Of Love to stay on; Hope did long endure;
She waited long on Time, for she had heard
   His spells, though slow, were sure.

   She waited; but her stroke
Was heavier than her groaning; one by one
All failed her: Grief was strongest, so it broke
   Each thing it leaned upon.

   She waited long on God,
And He forsook not; through the gloomy vale
She leant upon His staff, until His rod
   Brake forth in blossoms pale.

   Then did her spirit bless
The gracious token; then she saw the rife
Salt-crusted standing pools of bitterness
   Spring up to wells of life.

   And Peace, a friend for years
Estranged, stood by her on her dying bed:
See that thou weep not o'er her grave, her tears
   Have long ago been shed.

   She grieves not for the mould:
A heavier load lay long upon her breast
Than Earth, which hath been to her far more cold
   In waking than in rest!