  Serene I fold my hands and wait, Nor care for wind, nor tide, nor sea; I rave no more ’gainst time or fate For lo, my own shall come to me. I stay my haste, I make delays; For what avails this eager pace? I stand amid the eternal ways, And what is mine shall know my face. Asleep, awake, by night or day, The friends I seek are seeking me; No wind can drive my bark away Nor change the tide of destiny. What matter if I stand alone? I wait with joy the coming years; My heart shall reap where it has sown, And gather up its fruits of tears. The waters know their own and draw The brook that springs from yonder height. So flows the good with equal law Unto the soul of pure delight. The stars come nightly to the sky, The tidal wave unto the sea; Nor time, nor space, nor deep, nor high Can keep my own away from me. Apollo in his chariot, which is surrounded by female figures, follows Aurora
Guido Reni (1575-1642). The Aurora. |
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