Like a prisoner waiting for death alone
From you am I barr'd for ever, tho'.
Your heart to mine is a heart of stone!
I shall have patience: wait and wait:
Never does love, like the world, grow old.
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I linger and loiter at the gate,
Tho' the moon be dim and the night be cold.
Yet (let me whisper it!) time may be,
Far off or near - I know not - when
The love I lack may be granted me;
And I may not care for your answer, then!