Poetry Archives

Kind teacher, henceforth be it mine,
To kneel at friendship’s sacred shrine,
And hope’s bright budding flowers entwine
    Into a garland for they brow.
And thou shalt wait not for the hours
That gem creation’s radiant towers,
To woo thee to elysian bowers,
    But wear it now.

Too long a dreamer have I been,
Too long life’s dark side only seen;
And if thou canst, while thus I kneel,
The mystery of life reveal,
    Then gladly will I learn of thee.
For as on flowers the dewdrops fall,
As sunbeams break the storm-cloud’s pall,
As pardon comes to lives which blame
Has crushed beneath its weight, so came
    Thy sympathy to me.
                                        REVENITA.