Poems (Howard)/To One Afar
To One Afar
It seems the days will never end Apart from thee, my one dear friend, Whom every hour my thoughts attend.
Fair morning dawns in dewy grace And seeks, with kisses on my face, Night's ling'ring tear-drops to erase.
Like fragrant censers swung in air Exhaling odor rich and rare, Sweet flower-bells are everywhere.
Gay carols warbled wild and free From tuneful throats in every tree King out in wondrous harmony.
While, fair æolians in disguise With unseen harps, the breezes rise And chant their softest lullabies.
And with them other strains combine That seem less human than divine, And gladden every heart—but mine.
For everything I hear or see Becomes dispiriting to me, Because—it is not shared with thee.
And skies, however bright and clear, Surcharged with gloom to me appear, For I am sad—thou art not here.
Meek patience I impersonate, And looking, longing, wond'ring, wait For thy return—if soon or late.
Thy lot I know is happiness—For thee doth Heaven delight to bless—And my lament but selfishness.
That thou art glad explaineth why The world around thee smiles, and I Am happier—when thou art nigh.
As boundless as its sympathies All tenderness thy nature is, To bear with mine infirmities.
And thou dost find with secret art Thy way into a weary heart, And lease of strength anew 'impart.
How long—how long wilt thou delay? Who unawares hast borne away The melody and joy of day.
O from that far-alluring shore Come back, I pray thee, and restore Its gladness unto Life once more!