At Last

At last, when all the summer shine 
That warmed life’s early hours is past, 
Your loving fingers seek for mine 
And hold them close—-at last—-at last! 
Not oft the robin comes to build 
Its nest upon the leafless bough 
By autumn robbed, by winter chilled,—- 
But you, dear heart, you love me now. 
Though there are shadows on my brow 
And furrows on my cheek, in truth,—- 
The marks where Time’s remorseless plough 
Broke up the blooming sward of Youth,—- 
Though fled is every girlish grace 
Might win or hold a lover’s vow, 
Despite my sad and faded face, 
And darkened heart, you love me now! 
I count no more my wasted tears; 
They left no echo of their fall; 
I mourn no more my lonesome years; 
This blessed hour atones for all. 
I fear not all that Time or Fate 
May bring to burden heart or brow,—- 
Strong in the love that came so late, 
Our souls shall keep it always now! 

This entry was posted on Friday, September 22nd, 2017 at 10:26 am. Both comments and pings are currently closed.