Absence.

What shall I do with all the days and hours          That must be counted ere I see thy face?     How shall I charm the interval that lowers          Between this time and that sweet time of grace?     Shall I in slumber steep each weary sense,          Weary with longing? - shall I flee away     Into past days, and with some fond pretence          Cheat myself to forget the present day?     Shall love for thee lay on my soul the sin          Of casting from me God's great gift of time;     Shall I these mists of memory locked within,          Leave, and forget, life's purposes sublime?     Oh! how, or by what means, may I contrive          To bring the hour that brings thee back more near?     How may I teach my drooping hope to live          Until that blessed time, and thou art here?     I'll tell thee: for thy sake, I will lay hold          Of all good aims, and consecrate to thee,     In worthy deeds, each moment that is told          While thou, beloved one! art far from me.     For thee I will arouse my thoughts to try          All heavenward flights, all high and holy strains;     For thy dear sake I will walk patiently          Through these long hours, nor call their minutes pains.     I will this dreary blank of absence make          A noble task time, and will therein strive     To follow excellence, and to o'ertake          More good than I have won, since yet I live.     So may this doomed time build up in me          A thousand graces which shall thus be thine;     So may my love and longing hallowed be,          And thy dear thought an influence divine.