The Love That Dares To Wait

A joining of their loyal hands, a meeting of true eyes,—

A moment's meeting, calm and firm—they parted on this wise,

And he went forth to do more deeds which, blazoned on a shield,

Had won for him the fair true hand he now is forced to yield.

She stands there still when he is gone, she neither speaks, nor stirs,

She stands there still—a Mortimer amongst the Mortimers;—

They know her true, and tender, and they turn their eyes aside

To let her struggle with her woe, and conquer by her pride.

She stands there still; they know her true, and tender, and they fear

That she will falter now, but no, she drops nor word nor tear;

Defying with a patient scorn the anguish of the hour,

She stands there still—a Mortimer in passion's guarded power.