[Editor: This poem by Agnes L. Storrie was published in Poems, 1909.]
A Modern Lover.
You are my waiting letter, why should I break the seal?
Once I have read your message, what can you then reveal ?
Rosebuds were made for opening, and silence for breeding speech,
But who knows if joys we gather match those that are out of reach?
You are my Isle of Promise, why should I step ashore?
Once I have climbed the summits, what can I then explore ?
Problems were made for solving — you are my mystery,
But once you’ve unlocked a casket, what is the use of the key?
You are my wine of Circe, but how, when the draught is done,
Shall I quench my thirst? By remembrance or the lees of a kiss long won?
Loiter along with me, dearest, sign to the stars to wait,
Better a dream uncompleted than the round of a finished fate.
You are my hidden Future; never become my past,
Let’s stretch our elastic present as long as its strength will last,
What may be holds a thrill, dear, and gold cannot purchase thrills,
So better a shadow of good than the possible good of ills.
Source:
Agnes L. Storrie. Poems, J. W. Kettlewell, Sydney, 1909, pages 133-134
Editor’s notes:
Circe = a goddess in Greek mythology (sometimes portrayed as an enchantress or sorceress)
lees = the sediment of wine in a barrel; dregs found in a cask; also used to refer to dregs in a general context
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