TOO late I bring my heart, too late 'tis yours; Too late to bring the true love that endures; Too long, unthrift, I gave it here and there, Spent it in idle love and idle song; Youth seemed so rich, with kisses all to spare -- Too late! too long! Too late, O fairy woman; dreams and dust Are in your hair, your face is dimly thrust Among the flowers; and Time, that all forgets, Even you forgets, and only I prolong The face I love, with ache of vain regrets -- Too late! too long! Too long I tarried, and too late I come, O eyes and lips so strangely sealed and dumb: My heart -- what is it now, beloved, to you? My love -- that doth your holy silence wrong? Ah! fairy face, star-crowned and chrismed with dew -- Too late! too long! |