I count the days until I see you, dear,
But the days only.
I dare not reckon up the nights and hours
I shall be lonely.
But when at last I meet you, dearest heart,
How can it cheer me?
Desire has power to turn me into stone,
When you come near me.
I give my heart the lie against my will,
Seem not to see you,
Glance aside quickly if I meet your eye,
Love you and flee you.
1913