The Alchemy

No, we are strangers yet,

The divine alchemy

Not yet, or vainly, has set

Our longing currents free.

We meet, what loving foes.

Who vainly would combine

Cross virtues, that dispose

The draught to be divine.

Waiting we know not what,

Lonely, and side by side,

Desiring only not

To part, yet not to abide,

We linger, each aware

Of that which both have missed,

And pitying the despair

Of the proud alchemist.