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WAITING.
Yet like a dream that comes in sleep, your soul sweet quiet breaking,
Is a thought of me, my darling, that shall come true on waking.
Is a thought of me, my darling, that shall come true on waking.
Perchance you turn from passionate vows, words wild with love's sweet madness,
With soft eyes looking far away, in yearning trust and sadness;
A look that tells his alien soul how widely you are parted,
Though he knows not whom your rapt eyes seek, my sweet, my loving-hearted.
With soft eyes looking far away, in yearning trust and sadness;
A look that tells his alien soul how widely you are parted,
Though he knows not whom your rapt eyes seek, my sweet, my loving-hearted.
Oh, the world is rough; the heart against its sneers, its cold. derision,
Locks all its better feelings, making it a gloomy prison;
But your hand, my angel, shall unlock its rocky, dust-strewn portal,
Your smile shall rouse its dying dreams of good to life immortal.
Locks all its better feelings, making it a gloomy prison;
But your hand, my angel, shall unlock its rocky, dust-strewn portal,
Your smile shall rouse its dying dreams of good to life immortal.
You will make me better, purer, for love, the true refiner,
Burning out the baser passions, will kindle the diviner,
Will plead and win my spirit, not to shame its heavenly station,
You will trust me, and that trust will prove my tempted soul's salvation.
Burning out the baser passions, will kindle the diviner,
Will plead and win my spirit, not to shame its heavenly station,
You will trust me, and that trust will prove my tempted soul's salvation.
