What shall I do with all the days and hours <br />That must be counted ere I see thy face? <br />How shall I charm the interval that lowers <br />Between this time and that sweet time of grace? <br />Shall I in slumber steep each weary sense, <br />Weary with longing?—shall I flee away <br />Into past days, and with some fond pretence <br />Cheat myself to forget the present day? <br />Shall love for thee lay on my soul the sin <br />Of casting from me God's great gift of time; <br />Shall I these mists of memory locked within, <br />Leave, and forget life's purposes sublime? <br />Oh, how, or by what means, may I contrive <br />To bring the hour that brings thee back more near? <br />How may I teach my drooping hope to live <br />Until that blessed time, and thou art here? <br /> <br />I'll tell thee: for thy sake, I will lay hold <br />Of all good aims, and consecrate to thee, <br />In worthy deeds, each moment that is told <br />While thou, belovèd one! art far from me. <br />For thee, I will arouse my thoughts to try <br />All heavenward flights, all high and holy strains; <br />For thy dear sake I will walk patiently <br />Through these long hours, nor call their minutes pains. <br />I will this dreary blank of absence make <br />A noble task-time, and will therein strive <br />To follow excellence, and to o'ertake <br />More good than I have won, since yet I live. <br />So may this doomèd time build up in me <br />A thousand graces which shall thus be thine; <br />So may my love and longing hallowed be, <br />And thy dear thought an influence divine.<br /><br />Frances Anne Kemble<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/absence-72/
