NEW WORLDS

With my beloved I lingered late one night.

At last the hour when I must leave her came:

But, as I turned, a fear I could not name

Possessed me that the long sweet evening might

Prelude some sudden storm, whereby delight

Should perish. What if death, ere dawn, should claim

One of us? What, though living, not the same

Each should appear to each in morning-light?

Changed did I find her, truly, the next day:

Ne'er could I see her as of old again.

That strange mood seemed to draw a cloud away,

And let her beauty pour through every vein

Sunlight and life, part of me. Thus the lover

With each new morn a new world may discover.