Classic Poem

Wait but a little while —
— The bird will bring
A heart in tune for melodies
— Unto the spring,
Till he who's in the cedar there
Is moved to trill a song so rare,
And pipe her fair.

Wait but a little while —
— The bud will break;
The inner rose will open and glow
— For summer's sake;
Fond bees will lodge within her breast
Till she herself is plucked and pressed
Where I would rest.

Wait but a little while —
— The maid will grow
Gracious with lips and hands to thee,
— With breast of snow.
To-day Love's mute, but time hath sown
A soul in her to match thine own,
Though yet ungrown.