DEAREST of maidens under the sun,
Tender tho' stately, graciously sweet,
Shy (or proud shall I call it?) to one
Who would bend to your hand, or kneel at your feet, -
Scorn you, or hate you, it matters not;
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Tho' love, as it may, come soon or late -
As it must, I say, unpray'd or sought, -
My patient heart can wait, can wait!
I dream of you in the dull-red sky,
In westward winter suns afar;
I hear your foot where the brown leaves lie,
Your voice in the dawn-wind, star to star.
Flashes ever a beautiful face
From the brittle fields of ice like glass;
Thro' snow-white corridors flits the grace
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The Chapel Service.
