TOO LATE

Too late I bring my heart, too late‘ tis yours;

Too late to bring the true love that endures;

Too long, unthrift, I gave it here and there,

Spent it in idle love and idle song;

Youth seemed so rich, with kisses all to spare —

Too late! too long!

Too late, O fairy woman; dreams and dust

Are in your hair, your face is dimly thrust

Among the flowers; and Time, that all forgets,

Even you forgets, and only I prolong

The face I love, with ache of vain regrets —

Too late! too long!

Too long I tarried, and too late I come,

O eyes and lips so strangely sealed and dumb:

My heart — what is it now, beloved, to you?

My love — that doth your holy silence wrong?

Ah! fairy face, star-crowned and chrismed with dew —

Too late! too long!