The evening star comes to the sky,
To the steadfast shore, the sea;
But thou, so dear and so long waited for,
Comest not to me.
The sun returns at dawn and floods
With light earth’s darkest spot;
But thou, so dear and my heart’s only light,
Returnest not.
The sky waits nightly for the star,
The shore waits for the sea;
Far, lone, are they . . . . . But ah, how lonelier
I wait for thee!
“Song to a Lute” as it appears in Higginson’s The Vanishing Race (1911).