November 12

Why should I still hang back, like one in a dream,

Who vainly strives to clothe himself aright,

That in great presence he may seemly seem?

Why call up feeling?—dress me in the faint,

Worn, faded, cast-off nimbus of some saint?

Why of old mood bring back a ghostly gleam—

While there He waits, love's heart and loss's blight!