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Home  »  library  »  Song  »  Frances Louisa Bushnell (1834–1899)

C.D. Warner, et al., comp.
The Library of the World’s Best Literature. An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.

Frances Louisa Bushnell (1834–1899)

Delay

TASTE the sweetness of delaying,

Till the hour shall come for saying

That I love you with my soul:

Have you never thought your heart

Finds a something in the part,

It would miss from out the whole?

In this rosebud you have given,

Sleeps that perfect rose of heaven

That in Fancy’s garden blows:

Wake it not by touch or sound,

Lest perchance ’twere lost, not found,

In the opening of the rose.

Dear to me is this reflection,

Of a fair and far perfection,

Shining through a veil undrawn:

Ask no question then of fate;

Yet a little longer wait

In the beauty of the dawn.

Through our mornings, veiled and tender,

Shines a day of golden splendor,

Never yet fulfilled by day:

Ah! if love be made complete,

Will it, can it, be so sweet

As this ever sweet delay?