When He appoints to meet thee, go thou forth— <br /> It matters not <br />If south or north, <br /> Bleak waste or sunny plot. <br />Nor think, if haply He thou seek’st be late, <br /> He does thee wrong. <br />To stile or gate <br /> Lean thou thy head, and long! <br />It may be that to spy thee He is mounting <br /> Upon a tower, <br />Or in thy counting <br /> Thou hast mista’en the hour. <br />But, if He comes not, neither do thou go <br /> Till Vesper chime. <br />Belike thou then shalt know <br /> He hath been with thee all the time. <br /><br />Thomas Edward Brown<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/specula/
