Jessie B. Rittenhouse, ed. (1869–1948). The Second Book of Modern Verse. 1922.
Dialogue
B
And when he enters let him be at home.
Think of the roads that he has had to roam.
Think of the years that he has had to wait.
Another has come first—there is no room.
And I am thoughtful of the endless loom—
Let Love be patient, the importunate.
And give thy dreamy hair that Love may spin.
Let Love come last, and then may Love last long.
Be patient now with Death, for Love has passed.