English poem
Where Are You, Dear?
by Marie Van Vorst (1867–1936)
Where are you, Dear, now that the winter white Has nearly run its course? Spring will be here And birds shall sing as home they wing their flight, “Where are you, Dear?”
Thus I have sung and waited thro’ the year, Saying at morning: “You will come with night?” And in the night: “With the dawn kind and clear,
“You will pass by!” My little dwelling bright Has its soft curtains drawn; I wait the cheer Your presence brings by day and candle-light; “Where are you, Dear?”