Poem by Augusta Webster

Choosing

The thrush that, yet alone, pipes for his mate
Knows she will come in time to build the nest,
Knows she'll be she his tiny soul loves best;
'Tis love-time at the hawthorn blossom's date:
And the new flower-cups bare their hearts and wait
While careless breezes bring them love for guest;
And Youth laughs ready for the glad unrest;
But Love that chooses lingers desolate.

And I, who seek, and yearn for love to stir,
And I, who seek, and cannot love but one
And have not known her being, nor can find,
I take my homeless way for sake of her;
And love-time's here, and love-time will be done:
Birds end all singing in the autumn wind. 

1. Young May Sat Fainting and Chill
2. She Has Made Me Wayside Posies
3. Hark the Sky-Lark in the Cloud
4. 'Tis Hard
5. Joy That's Half Too Keen, and True

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