Where waitest thou

Where waitest thou,
Lady, I am to love? thou comest not!
Thou knowest of my sad and lonely lot;
I looked for thee ere now!

It is the May,
And each fair sister-soul hath found its brother.
Only we two seek fondly each the other.
And seeking, still delay.

Where art thou, sweet?
I long for thee, as thirsty Lips for streams!
Oh, gentle promised Angel of my dreams.
Why do we never meet?

Thou art as I, —
Thy soul doth wait for mine, as mine for thee;
We cannot live apart; must meeting be
Never before we die?

Dear soul, not so!
That time doth keep for us some happy years,
That God hath portioned us our smiles and tears,
Thou knowest, and I know.

Yes, we shall meet!
And therefore let our searching be the stronger,
Dark ways of life shall not divide us longer,
Nor doubt, nor danger, sweet!

Hence 'tis I bear
This winter-tide as bravely as I may.
Patiently waiting for the bright spring-day,
That cometh with thee, dear.

T'is the May-light
That crimsons all the quiet college gloom;
May it shine softly in thy sleeping-room:
And so, dear wife, good night!