Yet independent, fearless, I endure.— I stand beneath God's night with lonely head And watch the stars like one already dead, Or one whom only death's white touch can cure. My footstep through the dark supremely sure Sounds. Lo! above the hills my dawn is red, And soon my fair last love-word will be said, And no more will soft lips of earth allure. Because I face the terror of the night Alone,—and let God's dark sing through my hair Unflinching, smiling as his arrows smite; Because in silence sorrow I can bear; Therefore it is that with divine delight I kiss thee coming all that woe to share. |