At Last

O the years I lost before I knew you, Love! O, the hills I climbed and came not to you, Love! Ah! who shall render unto us to make Us glad The things which for and of each other's sake We might have had? If you and I had sat and played together, Love, Two speechless babes in the summer weather, Love, By one sweet brook which, though it dried up long Ago, Still makes for me today a sweeter song Than all I know- If hand-in-hand through the mysterious gateway, Love Of womanhood, we had first looked and straightway, Love, Had whispered to each other softly, ere It yet Was dawn, what now in noonday heat and fear We both forget- If all of this had given its completeness, Love, To every hour, would it be added sweetness, Love? Or ill With thee? One wish could I more sweetly tell, More swift fulfill? Ah, vainly thus I sit and dream and ponder, Love, Losing the precious present while I wonder, Love, About the days in which you grew and came To be So beautiful, and did not know the name Or sight of me. But all lost things are in the angel's keeping, Love; No past is dead for us, but only sleeping, Love; The years of heaven will all earth's little pain Make good, Together there we can begin again, In babyhood.