THE CONSTANT LOVER

I see fair women all the day,

They pass and pass — and go;

I almost dream that they are shades

Within a shadow-show.

Their beauty lays no hand on me,

They talk — - I hear no word;

I ask my eyes if they have seen,

My ears if they have heard.

For why — within the north countree

A little maid, I know,

Is waiting through the days for me,

Drear days so long and slow.