Ah, I hug this pride in the
secret of my heart.
I sit on the grass and gaze upon the sky and dream of the sudden
splendour of thy coming--all the lights ablaze, golden pennons
flying over thy car, and they at the roadside standing agape,
when they see thee come down from thy seat to raise me from the
dust, and set at thy side this ragged beggar girl a-tremble with
shame and pride, like a creeper in a summer breeze.
But time glides on and still no sound of the wheels of thy
chariot. Many a procession passes by with noise and shouts and
glamour of glory. Is it only thou who wouldst stand in the
shadow silent and behind them all? And only I who would wait and
weep and wear out my heart in vain longing?
Early in the day it was whispered that we should sail in a boat,
only thou and I, and never a soul in the world would know of this
our pilgrimage to no country and to no end.
In that shoreless ocean, at thy silently listening smile my songs
would swell in melodies, free as waves, free from all bondage of
words.
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