The day draws nigh, methinks, when I could stay <br />Calm in thy presence with no dream of ill, <br />When, having put all earthliness away, <br />I could be near thee, touching thee, and still <br />Feel no mad throbbing at my foolish heart, <br />No sudden rising of unbidden tears, <br />Could mark thee come and go, to meet our part, <br />Without the gladness and without the fears. <br />Have patience with me then for this short space. <br />I shall be wise, but may not yet unmoved <br />See a strange woman put into my place <br />And happy in thy love, as I was loved: <br />This were too much. Ah, let me not yet see <br />The love--light in thine eyes, and not for me.<br /><br />Wilfrid Scawen Blunt<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-woman-s-sonnets-ix/
