Don't Tell the World that You're Waiting for Me

THREE summers have gone since the first time we met, love,
  And still 'tis in vain that I ask thee to wed ;
 I hear no reply but a gentle " Not yet, love,"
  With a smile of your lip, and a shake of your head.
 Ah ! how oft have I whispered, how oft have I sued thee,
  And breathed my soul's question of " When shall it be ?"
 You know, dear, how long and how truly I've wooed thee,
  So don't tell the world that you're waiting for me.

 I have fashioned a home, where the fairies might dwell, love,
  I've planted the myrtle, the rose, and the vine ;
But the cottage to me is a mere hermit's cell, love,
  And the bloom will be dull till the flowers are thine.
I've a ring of bright gold, which I gaze on when lonely,
  And sigh with Hope's eloquence, " When will it be ?"
There needs but thy " Yes," love--one little word only,
  So don't tell the world that you're waiting for me.

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Eliza Cook

Eliza Cook was an English author, Chartist poet and writer born in London Road, Southwark. more…

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"Don't Tell the World that You're Waiting for Me" Poetry.net. STANDS4 LLC, 2020. Web. 26 Feb. 2020. <https://www.poetry.net/poem/10195/don't-tell-the-world-that-you're-waiting-for-me>.

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