Waiting.

105

JOHN BURROUGHS.
JAS. L. ORR. By per.

1. Serene I fold my hands and wait,
Nor care for wind or tide or sea;
I rave no more 'gainst time or fate,
For lo! My own shall come to me.
I stay my haste, I make delays,
For what avails this eager pace?
I stand amid th' eternal ways,
And what is mine shall know my face.

2. Asleep, awake, by night or day,
The friends I seek are seeking me;
No wind can drive my bark astray,
Nor change the tide of destiny.
What matters if I stand alone?
I wait with joy the coming years,
My heart shall reap where it has sown,
And garner up its fruits of tears.