EXPECTATION.

Roll on, O shining sun,

To the far seas!

Bring down, ye shades of eve,

The soft, salt breeze!

Shine out, O stars, and light

My darling's pathway bright,

As through the summer night

She comes to me.

No beam of any star

Can match her eyes;

Her smile the bursting day

In light outvies.

Her voice — the sweetest thing

Heard by the raptured spring

When waking wild-woods ring -

She comes to me.

Ye stars, more swiftly wheel

O'er earth's still breast;

More wildly plunge and reel

In the dim west!

The earth is lone and lorn,

Till the glad day be born,

Till with the happy morn

She comes to me.