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Poem	I. So, I shall see her in three days And just one night, but nights are short, Then two long hours, and that is morn. See how I come, unchanged, unworn! Feel, where my life broke off from thine, How fresh the splinters keep and fine,--- Only a touch and we combine! II. Too long, this time of year, the days! But nights, at least the nights are short. As night shows where ger one moon is, A hand's-breadth of pure light and bliss, So life's night gives my lady birth And my eyes hold her! What is worth The rest of heaven, the rest of earth? III. O loaded curls, release your store Of warmth and scent, as once before The tingling hair did, lights and darks Outbreaking into fairy sparks, When under curl and curl I pried After the warmth and scent inside, Thro' lights and darks how manifold--- The dark inspired, the light controlled As early Art embrowns the gold. IV. What great fear, should one say, ``Three days ``That change the world might change as well ``Your fortune; and if joy delays, ``Be happy that no worse befell!'' What small fear, if another says, ``Three days and one short night beside ``May throw no shadow on your ways; ``But years must teem with change untried, ``With chance not easily defied, ``With an end somewhere undescried.'' No fear!---or if a fear be born This minute, it dies out in scorn. Fear? I shall see her in three days And one night, now the nights are short, Then just two hours, and that is morn.
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