Mourn not beyond measure, my long absent lover,
These eyes dim with watching, this trouble-pale mouth,
As for you they have faded, for you they'll recover --
Your violets, your roses, refreshed after drouth.

Yet I pray you be patient, for, oh, I am tired,
Too tired, too tired to be closely caressed;
So take me and soothe me, my love long desired'
As a mother would lay her own child on her breast.

So long I have starved, oh, a little while longer
Thus tenderly, slenderly portion my bliss.
More now were too much, when I'm braver and stronger,
I'll sigh back your whispers, restore you your kiss.

O see how the shadows in sunshine are fleeting!
O hark how the robins rejoice in the lane!
There! lay my thin hand on your heart's happy beating,
There! lift my tired head to your shoulder again.