I won’t be late, I’ll soon be there
I can feel how she’s longing, Waiting, Waiting ,
No thought of delay I’ll foster or feed,
For the Evening-light is dying, fading.
I’lI bring the season’s flowers
The best of the Summer’s store,
How fond you are with your Childish delight :
By Dalia, Roses and Delphiniums too,
Arranged to display every virtue of bright.
I’ll pay no mind to the Setting Sun
The mist in the Valley That is Forming, Spreading,
The Language of Nature that lightens the Soul,
For she is alone and Waiting and Waiting.
No break in my step, no idle intent ,
For times moving on unconcerned evermore,
And in its wake the years confess,
Of two kindred Souls and the Love that we swore.
Ah! I see you there , your Waiting is done, our meeting kept,
And I thank you for the years that you gave ,
I then take the Spray of the Summer’s Store -
And place them on your Grave.