Soon to Meet

When a man sails to far-off, longed-for ways.
With many days to pass 'twixt sea and sky,
At first he heeds not time, and seeks thereby
To mock its power; but after weary days,
When one cries, " Land in sight! " he takes his place
With others on the deck, and can descry
The outlines of the land; then feverishly
He counts the minutes till he win their grace.

So when my venturous life put forth alone —
Yourself the lovely land it steered unto —
I dared not count the hours that now are flown,
All but these last remaining, lessening few;
And these, being few enough to count, have grown
As painful ages till they bring me you.