Awaited

Although I dare to say My heart untarnished is from day to day, 'Tis not, O Love, that any strength of mine Has kept all white the shrine. But as I now look back Across the years that span the weary track, All the dear deeds I ever strove to do Were done because of you. All the white thoughts I had Were but pure flowers, one day to make you glad; Every improving act, each little grace, Humbly, dear one, I trace Back to my hope of you, Long, long before your wondrous face I knew. Ah! your white coming, silent and unseen, Made me and kept me clean!