And here I stay, expecting now the doom And sentence of eternal joy, or grief, Which from thy sweet, or fatal lips must come, For while I live thou of my heart art chief; Then show thyself as thou desir'st to be, Unstain'd in all thy ways, in all upright, That following days with pure integrity, May sweet my sorrows past with some delight; And here I rest, expecting the regard Of faithful love, and his deserv'd reward. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DOMESDAY BOOK: AT FAIRBANKS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE CANONIZATION by JOHN DONNE PARADISE by FREDERICK WILLIAM FABER THE TWO RABBIS by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER A BIT OF MULL by FREDERICK HENRY HERBERT ADLER NOVEMBER MORNING by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN WINTER NIGHTFALL by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 34 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING |