Anticipation

Awaits my heart for day not far

From hence; oh, why must it seem so?

For length of Time’s dull pacing are

A nuisance raw unto my soul.


But pleasant yet are moments passed

In contemplation fair and bright

Upon the time when hope, at last,

Has grown and fruited into sight.


So rests my mind on cheerful thoughts

And dreams which now are flesh and blood

As I await, as through a drought,

The wellspring promising a flood.

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