IN THREE DAYS

So, I shall see her in three days

And just one night, but nights are short,

Then two long hours, and that is morn.

See how I come, unchanged, unworn!

Feel, where my life broke off from thine,

How fresh the splinters keep and fine —

Only a touch and we combine!

Too long, this time of year, the days!

But nights, at least the nights are short.

As night shows where her one moon is,

A hand's-breadth of pure light and bliss,

So life's night gives my lady birth

And my eyes hold her! What is worth

The rest of heaven, the rest of earth?

O loaded curls, release your store

Of warmth and scent, as once before

The tingling hair did, lights and darks

Outbreaking into fairy sparks,

When under curl and curl I pried

After the warmth and scent inside,

Through lights and darks how manifold —

The dark inspired, the light controlled!

As early Art embrowns the gold.

What great fear, should one say, “Three days

That change the world might change as well

Your fortune; and if joy delays,

Be happy that no worse befell!”

What small fear, if another says,

“Three days and one short night beside

May throw no shadow on your ways;

But years must teem with change untried,

With chance not easily defied,

With an end somewhere undescried.”

No fear!— or if a fear be born

This minute, it dies out in scorn.

Fear? I shall see her in three days

And one night, now the nights are short,

Then just two hours, and that is morn.