Wistful.
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Dear, it is hard to stand1
So near thy life, yet so apart ;2
So near—I think so near—thine heart ;3
So near that I could touch thine hand,4
And yet so far I dare not take5
That hand in mine for love’s dear sake !6
So near that I can look my fill7
At stated times upon thy face ;8
So far that I must yield a place9
To others, sore against my will !10
So near that I can see thee smile,11
So far, my poor heart aches the while!12
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Dear, it is hard to know13
Whate’er the stress, the storm, the strife,14
The fret, the sadness of thy life,15
I have no power, no right to show16
Love in my heart, love on my lips,17
To comfort thee in life’s eclipse ;18
No right to claim before the rest,19
The privilege to weep with thee ;20
No right, across life’s stormy sea,21
To bid thee welcome to my breast ;22
No right to share thy hopes, thy fears,23
Through all the weary, weary years.24
Dear, it is hard to feel25
That bliss may meet thee, full and fair,26
Wherein poor I can have no share ;27
That thy wide future may reveal28
The joys of harvest manifold,29
While I stand lonely in the cold.30
Dear, it is hard. But God doth know31
How leal the heart that beats for thee ;32
It is enough, enough for me33
To love thee. Let the future show34
Love can live on for its own sake,35
Though eyes may weep, though heart may
ache !36
ache !36