A Reed by the River/A Vigil
A VIGIL
Is it nothing to you?The harvest is over, the summer is past;Love that lived for your sake, in the chill and the dewLies stricken at last.Love for you that was born,Smiteth blind at the darkYet fain would shun light;Love that sang in the morn hath a pillow of thornAnd is one with the night.
Is it nothing to you?Full, full were the lees with rapture and pain;Love starved where your vineyards in plentitude grew,Love thirsted, the Marah of tears did he drain;Turn his face to the dark, set his lips to the dew,On, on in the dawn with his heart smitten through,—It is nothing to you.