The Broken Tryst

That day a fire was in my blood;

I could have sung: joy wrapt me round;

The men I met seemed all so good,

I scarcely knew I trod the ground.

How easy seemed all toil! I laughed

To think that once I hated it.

The sunlight thrilled like wine, I quaffed

Delight, divine and infinite.

The very day was not too long;

I felt so patient; I could wait,

Being certain. So, the hours in song

Chimed out the minutes of my fate.

For she was coming, she, at last,

I knew: I knew that bolts and bars

Could stay her not; my heart throbbed fast,

I was not more certain of the stars.