The Open Gates.

A poem by John Hartley

My heart was sad when first we met;
'Yet with a smile, -
A welcome smile I ne'er forget,
Thou didst beguile
My sighs and sorrows;-and a sweet delight
Shed a soft radiance, where erst was night.

I dreamed not we should meet again; -
But fate was kind,
Once more my heart o'er fraught with pain,
To joy inclined.
It seemed thy soul had power to penetrate
My inmost self, changing at will my state.

Then sprang the thought: - Be thou my Queen!
I will be slave;
Make here thy throne and reign supreme,
'Tis all I crave.
Let me within thy soothing influence dwell,
Content to know, with thee all must be well.

I knew not that another claimed
By prior right,
Those charms that had my breast inflamed
With fancies bright.
Ah! then I recognized my loneliness: -
My dreams dispelled; - still I admired no less.

Time wearily dragged on its way, -
We met once more,
And thou wert free! Oh, happy day!
As sight of shore
Cheers the worn mariner; - so sight of thee,
Made my heart beat with sweet expectancy.

Is it too much to hope, - someday
This heart of mine,
That beats alone for thee, - yet may
Thy love enshrine?
All things are said to come to him who waits,
I'm waiting, darling. - Love, opes wide the gates.