<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=349994" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Waiting</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">A YOUNG fair girl among her flowers,<br>And, as to blossoms born in May,<br>Her morrows still brought sunnier hours<br>Than made up sunny yesterday.<br>She did but wait: 'Hope is so sweet;<br>We love so well, my love and I;<br>The hours that come, the hours that fleet,<br>End all in one glad by and by.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A pale worn woman, scarcely sad,<br>But tired, like those who, too long pent,<br>Forget the joy they have not had<br>Of the free winds, and droop content.<br>She did but wait: 'Ah, no, to me<br>The silent hope is never dead;<br>What are the days that are to be<br>But part of the dear days long fled?'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He came: 'The wealth we need is mine;<br>And now?' 'Alas!' she said, 'in vain.<br>The love I love is noway thine,<br>I wait who never comes again.<br>Oh, for my lover of old days,<br>We two from all the world apart!<br>I must go lone on earth's bleak ways,<br>He is not now save in my heart.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He wed another. She, alone,<br>Patient and weary, toiled for bread.<br>And bygone still was never gone,<br>The silent hope was never dead.<br>She did but wait: 'I have the past;<br>The new days live the old days o'er,<br>And there abides until the last<br>The by and by that was before.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Augusta+Davies+Webster">Augusta Davies Webster</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=349994" data-title="Waiting de Augusta Davies Webster" data-description="A YOUNG fair girl among her flowers, And, as to blossoms born in May, Her morrows still brought sunnier hours Than made up sunny yesterday. She did but wait: 'Hope is so sweet; We love so well, my love and I; The hours that come, the hours that fl..."></div> </div> </div>

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