WAITING

        Serene, I fold my hands and wait,
        Nor care for wind, nor tide, nor sea;
        I rave no more 'gainst time or fate,
        For, lo! my own shall come to me.

        I stay my haste, I make delays,
        For what avails this eager pace?
        I stand amid the eternal ways,
        And what is mine shall know my face.

        Asleep, awake, by night or day,
        The friends I seek are seeking me;
        No wind can drive my bark astray,
        Nor change the tide of destiny.

        What matter if I stand alone?
        I wait with joy the coming years;
        My heart shall reap where it hath sown,
        And garner up its fruit of tears.

        The waters know their own and draw
        The brook that springs in yonder height;
        So flows the good with equal law
        Unto the soul of pure delight.

        The stars come nightly to the sky;
        The tidal wave unto the sea;
        Nor time, nor space, nor deep, nor high,
        Can keep my own away from me.