George Pope Morris

1802-1864 / USA

My Lady Waits For Me.

My lady waits!--'Tis now the hour
When morn unbars her gates!--
My vessel glides beneath the tower
Where now my lady waits.
Her signal flutters from the wall,
Above the friendly sea!
I life but to obey her call!
My lady waits for me.
My lady waits--for me she waits,
While morning opes her golden gates.

My lady waits!--No fairer flower
E'er deck'd the floral grove,
Than she, the pride of hall and bower,
The lady of my love!
The eastern hills are flecked with light,
The land-breeze curls the sea!
By love and truth sustained, for flight,
My lady waits for me.
My lady waits--for me she waits,
While morning opes her golden gates.
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