The thrush that, yet alone, pipes for his mate <br />Knows she will come in time to build the nest, <br />Knows she'll be she his tiny soul loves best; <br />'Tis love-time at the hawthorn blossom's date: <br />And the new flower-cups bare their hearts and wait <br />While careless breezes bring them love for guest; <br />And Youth laughs ready for the glad unrest; <br />But Love that chooses lingers desolate. <br /> <br />And I, who seek, and yearn for love to stir, <br />And I, who seek, and cannot love but one <br />And have not known her being, nor can find, <br />I take my homeless way for sake of her; <br />And love-time's here, and love-time will be done: <br />Birds end all singing in the autumn wind.<br /><br />Augusta Davies Webster<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/choosing-5/
