To Her First-Born Poem by John Bannister Tabb

Long I waited, wondering
How, so near my heart,
Love another life could bring,
Made of mine a part,
Nor let me, save in fancy, gaze
Soul-centred, on the cloistered face!


But now, the mystery removed,
Thou liest on my breast,
A form so fervently beloved,
So tenderly caressed,
That as my spirit compassed thine,
Thy soul the limit seems of mine.


So, life that vanishes anon,
Perchance about us lies,
Too near for Love to look upon
With unanointed eyes,
Till, past the interval of pain,
We clasp the living form again.