Nature Must Wait

I am the most jaded of all who view 
The world's most wondrous gifts. There is naught
I see of beauty but I say "In you,
Was this first and more seen, and better taught."

So, the world must then wait for its praises, 
For now, these words are meant for none but you.
It will rest, it knows its own good graces
It will wait, for this praise to thee is due.

In this kind and willing dream lie traces
Of my heart whose fast blood is swelling hot
With thought and touch of you. Each one races
To the fore, and crowds the one before. Not

Untill I have known you in all your ways
Will I be content in giving you praise.